Once Upon a Time in 1917
by Forensica X
Summary: "I was always THAT BOY who would have - as soon as I discovered that you were what I was looking for - gotten down on one knee and endeavored to secure your hand." -page 277, Eclipse. What if Edward HAD met Bella during his human life? Adult discretion advised. Some graphic violence and content of sexual nature.
1. Arrival on 41st Street

A/N: I have never owned and never will own anything mentioned in SM's Twilight saga. She is a God. I am a poor student. Enjoy.

Chapter One: Arrival on 41st Street

The Model T sputtered to a stop beside a gray curb. The bricked sidewalk was slimy from rain and runoff. I pulled my traveling coat tighter around me as wind rushed into the cabin. Father stepped out and offered Kate a hand in climbing out of the cabin.

It seemed even the city itself mourned our move. Surely the weather would be more welcoming otherwise.

But I suppose that I, Isabella Marie Swan - a normal girl from rural Tinly Park, Illinois - was just as much to blame for my situation as anyone else. While everyone discussed my future around me, I had quietly bitten my lip and packed for a cruel city devoid of any of the comforts of home. A mother, for instance.

Charlie, my father, was neither harsh nor unfeeling (as many government-employed fathers seem to be); however, he was no replacement for warm Renée. Social-climbing and silliness aside, my mother was a wonderful friend and a beautiful person. Irreplaceable. And it was for her happiness that I did the "ladylike" thing and accepted the choice deemed as the best for my future.

Of course, I knew I was not the only one who missed her. Charlie suffered the most. He worried endlessly about me, now. My coming-out, which terrified me at the best moments, horrified him like no other torture imaginable.

It is unusual for a girl of my station to have a coming-out into society. Charlie's post as a sheriff is commendable but hardly denotes the sort of position that would afford a girl belonging to the middle class a debut - not that I would mind. Rather, I would prefer a quiet sixteenth birthday luncheon followed by an afternoon of reading to the five hour long exhibition I would soon endure.

An exhibition that I personally believed should be restricted to the obscenely rich.

Renée would have none of that. She made sure that I would have a proper coming-out. A coming-out that could never be held in a town - a village, really - with less than four-hundred occupants.

Before her fever claimed her last winter, Renée convinced Charlie to make friends with Mayor William Hale Thompson of Chicago during his last run for office. And a year later, Charlie became the Chief of Police of the great city of Chicago.

"Bella, your room is upstairs. The people at the station were kind enough to have the house furnished ahead of our arrival. Kate, will you help her unpack?"

Charlie's voice pulled me out of my musings as Kate led me up the brick steps and over the threshold.

I could tell that being here without the move's orchestrator was hurting him. I squeezed his hand in silent reassurance as I passed him in the mahogany-furnished foyer.

"This is lovely, Miss Swan!"

Kate had already made it upstairs. She called from the room above down at me and did not notice when I walked in on her pulling sheets off the furniture and opening the deep velvet curtains covering the french window. It really was a pretty place, our new row house.

I preferred our colonial farmhouse, creaky floors and all.

"Won't this just be perfect for your drawing, Miss Swan? The sun should shine just wonderfully here!" she said encouragingly. From the ache beginning to build in my temple, I knew I must have frowned quite a bit today. And yesterday. And during the packing and moving. And being that I never was a good liar, she must have recognized my unhappiness easily.

The clouds, the Masenry, the brick combined with rain created a stench much like mildew. I missed our little piece of heaven. I missed the smell of wildflowers. I even missed Renée's insistence on driving into this stupid place every spring to buy the latest dress patterns and magazines.

My cold, chapped face felt wet, suddenly. I turned away from the window and wiped at the unbidden tears aggressively.

"Miss Swan?"

Kate looked worried. She loved me. I was being unfair to her… and to Charlie.

"Well, I suppose if we must endure so cool a March we should at least feel springtime inside. Let's light the stove, shall we?" I hitched what I believed to be a convincing smile on my face and hoped I sounded at least a little optimistic. Lying, even to myself, was not my forte but if I was to survive I would try.

It did not take long to get settled into the row house on 41st street. Charlie was called away fairly quickly for some matter down at the station. He mumbled a brief apology upon leaving along with an explanation: "Chicago is a lot bigger, Bella, darling."

With that in mind, I decided, as soon as I was unpacked, that I would find something positive and exciting about my new home. As big as it was, I thought Chicago must offer something in the way of comfort.

Kate agreed to accompany me through town. She forced me into a fur muff and made me change from my traveling suit to a "more appropriate" ensemble for the town. She saw it as an opportunity to place me unofficially in the Chicago bride market, I guess.

We walked up the street with our heads bent slightly against the wind. Shops lined either side. Men in hats tipped them as I walked by. Little boys in worn shoes shouted from corners and sold papers. I bought one despite Kate's protest as we passed.

The shoppes here were something to be marveled at. Instrument repair, cobblers, tailors, bakeries, French boutiques… I couldn't think of anything more ridiculous. We had gotten along just fine with home-made goods and elbow grease.

"Miss! Look there! Right on our street, even. 'Tis a library, is it not, Miss Swan?"

Kate's brogue broke through the howling wind and the bustling of carts and horses and people.

Pillars rose from a set of steps to a magnificent roof. Men in hats and girls in school uniforms loitered on the great steps and just inside the entrance. I could see shelf upon shelf through the arched windows.

Perhaps it wouldn't be too terribly awful.

Perhaps my husband would allow me to come here during long days of waiting with nothing to do.

My feet started carrying me before my mind reengaged.

"Miss Swan! Careful!"

"Look out!"

I briefly registered a black Oldsmobile barreling toward me, its driver panicked, when two warm hands caught me about the waist and pulled me out of its path. The driver had swerved into the other side of the road in the meantime and brought the evening traffic of Tin Lizzies and much more expensive cars to a chaotic stop.

"Miss Swan! Miss Swan? Saints in heaven preserve us you gave me a fright!"

Kate crossed the street in the temporary pause in traffic, rushing to my side, tucking a stray hair back into place, smoothing my skirt. She turned to the owner of the warm hands behind me, curtseying.

"Thank you, thank you sir, for pulling my young Miss out of the way. Please forgive us for the trouble. Thank you, Sir!"

I turned slowly, heat rising in my chilled cheeks as I faced my rescuer. No doubt he - along with the rest of the small group of spectators that had formed on either side of 41st - would think me stupid at best and slow at least.

The long fingers slid from my waist and removed a smart hat. My blush grew as my eyes travelled from the smart coat and shirt to his face. His eyes were pure emerald! They dazzled me and held me captive. My mouth, which had fallen open in the surprise of being yanked from the street, fell wider.

"It was my pleasure saving your young Miss…?"

The velvet voice coming from the formed lips pulled me from the trance his emerald depths had caught me in.

"S-Swan, Sir," I mumbled through the daze. How could a human being look so impossibly perfect. Slightly flushed cheeks, mussed bronze hair, perfect straight nose and delicately curved lips.

"Please, my name is Edward Masen. I've never seen you before. Have you just moved to Chicago?"

His eyes smoldered beneath dark lashes. I felt my heart flutter beneath the constraint of corset and ribs and flesh.

"Yes, Mr. Masen… My father is Police Chief Charles Swan. We just arrived today, actually… I was so distracted by the library that I forgot myself. I suppose I am used to far less traffic…" I said, dropping my eyes in embarrassment.

"Well, in that case, if you and your chaperone are willing, would you accompany me the rest of the way to the library? I've run out of reading material myself."

"I'm not sure… I really should be going back home. Char- um - Father will be expecting me home."

It took effort to form a sentence when he looked at me. Edward Masen's eyes were hypnotic. Two gems caught in a perfect face. Kate pinched my hand lightly and trod on my heel as I turned to walk away.

"Miss Swan, 'tis nearing half past the hour now isn't it? It may behoove us to ask Mr. Masen's kindness in eskirting us back home, given all the excitement. Don't you Mr. Masen?"

I felt my face flush hotter and gave Kate an accusing glare. How could she want to embarrass me further in front of Mr. Edward Masen? A complete stranger, no matter how beautiful he was? On the way there alone I had tripped countless times, not to mention stumbling twice.

"In fact, I insist on walking you lovely ladies back to your abode. I could not call myself a gentleman, otherwise," said Mr. Masen.

His eyes lit up when he spoke and his smile spread crookedly across his lips. I found myself entranced for the fifth time in five minutes.

What in God's name was this man doing to me?

Before I could completely snap out of the beauty induced stupor, Mr. Masen flipped his hat back onto his perfect head and offered me his arm as he made to cross the treacherous street.

"I would like to offer my apologies for my earlier brazenness, Miss Swan," he said sincerely, blushing a little. "But I thought you might forgive my hands' trespass upon your person considering the circumstances. I hope you forgive me - no matter the circumstance it was still very inappropriate of me."

He looked at me through his lashes and I felt my insides melt to the consistency of jelly.

"No, no, It's my fault for walking into the street like that. I should be more aware of my surroundings. I should be thanking you for pulling me out of the way… You risked yourself too, after all. If anyone owes someone an apology, it is I…" my words decreased in volume and increased in tempo as I went from a light strawberry shade to beet red.

"Not at all, Miss Swan. If you had paid more attention then I would not have had the pleasure of rescuing a lovely lady in distress. And if I hadn't seized that opportunity I would have missed becoming acquainted with the loveliest lady I have ever seen in Chicago, let alone 41st street."

At this, whatever was left of my normal complexion disappeared completely, along with my coordination. I dragged my foot over an uneven paving stone and tumbled headlong towards the ground. Before I could feel my knees make impact, an arm caught and held me, then steadied me as I found my balance.

"I'm s-sorry I don't know what's wrong with me I-"

But his laughter cut me off before I could finish whatever garbled excuse I was about to spout. It was the most amazing sound I had ever heard come from a person's mouth. Rich and infectious and I found myself laughing along with him.

"I must say, Miss Swan that you are the first girl I have ever had the pleasure of saving twice in the same hour! If you keep this up I shall reach hero-dom by the time we reach our destination and I shall have to propose to you by sunrise in order to thank you for helping me realize every man's dream."

Walking somewhat gracefully once more, I pouted and decided that something other than my dubious balance would make for better conversation.

"Is that really what men want to be? Heroes?" I asked, honestly curious. Mr. Masen's features softened into thoughtfulness and his pace slowed slightly - whether it was due to his consideration of my shorter stride or his contemplation I could not be sure.

"Do you not think so? Every other man my age I've spoken to has wanted to achieve some sort of glory. An honorable life with achievements. To be a hero in someone's eyes, whether that be his family's view or that of the public." He paused and I thought of Charlie, always doing his best to provide for Renée and me.

"I am considering enlistment, actually, as a more productive and heroic alternative to law school. There's nothing wrong with law, of course, but I could help people right now if I were a soldier. I could defend what so many people hold dear."

"I see… so is that what your father does? Is he a lawyer?" I asked. I didn't like the sound of him going to war. War was frightening. The pictures in the newspapers and the announcements on the radio terrified me more than poofy dresses. The idea of bullets being shot at this perfect gentleman disturbed me to my core.

Mr. Masen's expression became one of bemusement.

"You could say that. He's been mostly a businessmen for some time now but he started as a lawyer…"

He paused suddenly, an innocent and open expression lighting up his features.

"Don't misunderstand me, I love and respect my father very much! It is just that our views of how to best benefit society are rather different."

"I see. I understand. My mother and I were best friends though we didn't see eye to eye when it came to a lot." I hated using the past tense. It didn't escape his notice, either.

"Were..? May I ask why, if it isn't terribly intrusive?"

The innocent look was colored with concern. Guiltily, I enjoyed the fact that he seemed worried about me. But maybe Kate's delusions were beginning to cloud _my_ perceptions.

"My mother passed this winter. It was a terrible fever with chills and pains. I fell ill, too, but…"

"By God's grace you survived. My condolences for such a dear loss, Miss Swan… I am sure, that though you survived you have suffered much."

And his eyes were so sincere and his voice so heavy with concern that it was hard to feel the guilt I usually did at that particular memory.

He brushed my gloved hand with his fingertips once and I felt a shiver roll down my spine. Fire crept up my arm from the place he touched me.

"Are you too cold, Miss Swan? The wind can cut right through you at times." He began pulling off his coat and I blushed scarlet, putting a hand on his arm in protest.

"I'm just fine, thank you, Mr. Masen. Please don't go through any more over me… Besides, this is home." I gestured somewhat sadly at my new townhouse. I didn't want to let go of his coat sleeve.

"Believe me, Miss Swan, it was a pleasure to make your acquaintance…"

We were stopped beside the gas lamp in front of the row house. He lowered his arm and I let mine drop at my side, turning to face him. I wanted to say something, anything. I wanted to invite him in. I bit my lip, my knees shivering under my skirt and my heart stuttering in my chest as I fought to come up with something and came up blank.

With a growing sense of despair I answered his bow with a curtsey. My stomach clenched as he turned on his heel to walk away. Kate took my hand and led me up the short steps to the door. The cook had just pulled it open when his voice started my heart to flying again.

"If I may!"

I looked down at his perfect features and blushed scarlet as he took his hat off again and twirled it in his hands. He might as well have been holding my heart between his fingers.

" Well… Miss Swan, I would be most honored to have your and your father's permission to call upon you if I may… Of course I can arrange to be formally introduced first, but… Only if you wish it, Miss Swan. I have truly enjoyed our evening stroll together."

My mind ground to a halt as his sweet words washed through me and left me standing dazed, completely blissful, and dumb to the world with one foot across the threshold and the wind battering me to death.

Kate's insistent fingers pinched my arm hard and I yelped, flushing darker.

"I… I would like that very much, Mr. Masen. Thank you again for your assistance today," I managed. I wondered somewhere in the back of my mind whether he could hear the words over the pounding of my heart.

The most lovely smile broke over his angelic face and I felt the sun rise over the windy rainy city.

And before I could register anything more Kate had guided me into the parlor and had begun crowing.

For once, her energetic brogue even failed to pull me back to reality. I was floating on a cloud, reliving my walk on 41st street with Edward Masen.


	2. Daydreams

A/N: Thank you to Humble4 for noticing my GIGANTIC mistake with Mrs. Masen's name. It's so hard to think "Edward's Mother" and not think "Esme" after reading SM's books.

Disclaimer: I have never owned and never will own anything mentioned in SM's Twilight saga. She is a God. I am a poor student. Enjoy.

. . . . . . .

Chapter Two: Daydreams

That evening Charlie arrived just in time for supper. Kate and I prepared stroganoff accompanied by a white wine, which set Father in a good mood. Renée had cooked the dish often as a favor to him.

It was nearly seven-thirty when Charlie finally put down his fork and wiped his mustached mouth with a napkin.

"So, Bella, did you finish unpacking all your things?"

"Yes. It took the better part of the afternoon but we managed to make the place livable. Kate did most of the work, as always," I said a little sullenly. And it was true. The woman had barely let me put on my stockings myself that morning.

"Bella, you are the only girl I know who would complain about being spoiled."

"Being spoiled upon occasion and rendering me useless is an entirely different story."

"Few would complain about being rendered useless," he retorted. Charlie's eyes crinkled in the corners as he gave me a gentle smile. It was the way he always looked at Renée when he found something she did endearing.

"Did you find something to do after you finished? I hope you didn't stay in the house the whole day."

I chewed my lower lip for a moment.

He looked across the table at me with a gentle smile on his face. Kate hadn't told him about my encounter and I definitely did not want to discuss that quite yet. Charlie had yet to recognize me as an adult and had vehemently protested every introduction and passing mention of men in relation to myself - that is, up until Renée and I fell ill.

"Katelyn and I decided to take a walk down the street. There are quite a lot of shops… It was a sight to see."

"More accommodating than our little Tinly Park, eh?"

"Yes, Father. We found a grand library. I was actually hoping I could have your permission to go there tomorrow after my lessons," I said in hopes of escaping boredom.

"Didn't you get any books today, Bella? You never miss a chance to immerse yourself in a new adventure."

Drat. It was no use lying. He would suspect something worse if I , so much for keeping my encounter with Edward Masen to myself.

"Actually, before we could reach the library itself I… Well, I forgot myself upon seeing it, Daddy, and I ran into the street without thinking…"

"Isabella Swan! You should be more careful! Were you hurt? Was there much traffic?"

"Quite right, Mr. Swan, Sir. I told her m'self that the young Miss should be more aware of her surroundins! Saints preserve us - a lad had to risk 'imself to pull our young Miss Swan out of the path of an automobile!"

Kate moved in from my peripheral vision and I felt the urge to kick her later. Or at least put salt in her gin tonight.

I steeled myself while Charlie's gaze hardened slightly as he turned back to me.

"I see… Funny that you didn't mention meeting anyone today, Bella. You have always been generous with your praise of good deed-doers."

My heart stuttered and I hoped to God in heaven I didn't look as red as I felt.

"I am only embarrassed that I needed rescuing. It was a bit stupid of me… He was quite gracious, really. He offered to escort us back home, fearing for my constitution after the incident."

"And does your hero of the day have a name, Isabella?"

"Edward Masen-" I answered too quickly. "…I think."

Adding the last on felt blasphemous when my entire being seemed to sing the name on high.

"Edward Anthony Masen? Son of Chief Prosecutor Anthony Masen of the Masen-Stanley law firm?"

A law firm? Chief Prosecutor? Who else but a city aristocrat could be the perfect boy's father? Of course Anthony Masen would be Edward's father… The thing that I had felt instinctively upon meeting him had been confirmed. Edward Masen was far out of my league. Not just because I was plain and uninteresting compared to most girls. For the first time I felt a little disappointed to be a police Chief's daughter. My appetite evaporated.

"I think so, yes. He was exceptionally well dressed and he sounded well-educated."

"Well. I suppose you could have had a worse hero, sweetheart. I hope you apologized and thanked him for the trouble."

"Of course I did."

"Good girl."

"I've worked closely with Mr. Masen in the past and I'll be asking his help in the case we're in the process of wrapping up now. Be sure to thank Edward again if you happen to see him again."

Charlie picked up the evening news paper, then, signaling the end of the conversation. As soon as I finished, I excused myself for bed.

As I soaked in my oats-and-honey scented bath, Edward Masen's perfect features and melodic voice swam through my mind.

He had asked my permission to call. I wondered if Charlie had had a telephone installed. I hadn't been interested enough to look for one during the unpacking. If so, I could call my friend Angela back in Tinley Park and ask to live with her for the remainder of Charlie's career.

I just couldn't shake the senseless disappointment I felt. Of course the first boy to make me feel remotely feminine had to be born to near-aristocracy.

Charlie had spoken of the Masen law firm before. And of Anthony Clinton Masen. If I hadn't been so slow I would have recognized that tied to the name "Masen," Edward's perfect features and mannerisms could not a coincidence. Such things were inherited.

"Shall I turn down your bedding, Miss?"

Kate had come bustling into the room in her usual way.

"Yes, please. Kate..?"

She looked at me fondly, with a soft smile on her freckled face. Her hair was coming frazzled beneath her bonnet and her fingernails were black around the edges from shaking down the ashes in the furnace.

"Thank you, for today."

"Of course, wee Miss. 'Tis what your mother would have wanted as well. I knew it the minute me eyes set on him - 'Here's a worthy suitor for our wee Miss!'"

I sighed and wished what she said could be true. As the water went from scorching to luke-warm I let my mind wander.

My chance encounter with the angel played through my mind. I dragged my hand across my waist in a cheap imitation of his touch and wished desperately that I could feel the slow burn of his fingertips again… He had been close enough to kiss me more than once today.

"Are you alright, Miss? You've become flushed," worried Kate. She pulled a brush through my long dark hair while I took a pick to my fingernails, cleaning underneath them.

"It's just frustrating, Kate. You know I don't want a debut. Let the aristocracy have all the opulence. I would be happier with a quiet lunch and a walk in the sunshine."

"I thought you would have changed your mind after meeting Mr. Masen, Miss Bella," Kate said with an innocent lilt to her voice. I sighed and rolled my eyes.

"I haven't the slightest chance with Edward. I mean… he's too perfect. Too rich. Too… I don't fit in his world, Kate."

"Oh, 'Edward' now is he? Not Mr. Masen?" she trilled slyly.

"You know exactly what I mean, Kate. No matter how much respect your parents earn, if you can't afford to walk in French shoes you can't be afforded a glance from one of them."

"I understand, love. Well… your hair has grown out a bit since your illness. It has its luster back and everything. When the weather breaks you can start wearing it down once more. We should…"

I glazed over, my thoughts back to Edward again.

Before I could finish mourning his circumstances in comparison to mine, the water had gone cold and I stepped from the tub and in front of the mirror by my wardrobe. My figure was admirable, I suppose, and my skin was decent. But my heart ached at my plainness in every other sense.

My breasts, which had just begun blooming the past summer, had yet to ripen into anything substantial. My waist-length chocolate brown hair hung in a disarray of waves and loose curls. I turned around and watched a wrinkle form over my brow in the mirror. Nothing back there worth mentioning, either. At least my waist, cinched even smaller and shapelier by a corset every day, dipped in prettily and gave me the illusion of femininity when dressed.

How could such an angel be interested in me of all girls? Of course he couldn't. He was just too gentlemanly to let two women walk home when the sun was on its way down.

Surely there were plenty of prettier women here in Chicago, and being that he seemed to be one of the most eligible bachelors in town one would assume that many had already been pushed in his direction.

I could never compete.

I kicked aside my towel, not bothering to dry further before pulling on my nightdress. Kate sat in a rocker near the door polishing the surface of a clean chamber pot. It squeaked irritatingly as I yanked a comb through my wet tangles.

"Must you do that, Kate? It's a bedpan, not a crystal punch bowl for heaven's sake!"

"Yes, Miss. Sorry Miss. Goodnight." Kate's frown deepened and she pushed the ceramic fixture beneath my bed before bowing and dismissing herself.

Lovely. I seemed to be able to do nothing right.

My misery increased tenfold with the guilt of my treatment of my best friend on this earth - defeated, I laid my comb down and climbed into bed, half-inclined to go apologize this minute.

Of course, my ever loving and diligent Kate had placed a warming pan beneath my sheets.

I did not deserve her kindness.

I did not deserve Edward's attentions.

Worrying, I fell into a fitful sleep.

_"Bella…"_

_I looked around desperately for the lovely voice calling me. I stumbled across a pitted surface, stumbling often, scraping my knees and palms as I followed the sound._

_"Bella..!"_

_The angel's cry had become a warning. Of what? I looked into the darkness around my tiny pool of light, putting my arms out to feel for him._

_"Bella, stay where you are!"_

_I stopped and looked in the direction of the voice. Suddenly it broke into an agonized scream and I was pitched backward as something barreled into me with tremendous force._

"Bella! Miss Bella it's time to get up! 'Twas jist a night terror, dear, wake up now."

Kate's rough fingers drew across my forehead and I sat up, confused at the sunlight streaming through the window.

But Kate left me no time to contemplate my nightmare and I found myself pulled into my routine once more.

A tutor from Mrs. Hornby's school for girls arrived for drawing lessons at eight followed promptly by singing, then dance and etiquette. Then lunch at noon followed by Spanish and Latin.

"Miss Swan, please focus. Buenos días. ¿Como está? ¿Le divertía la fiesta ayer?"

I wanted to go to the library. Maybe I could just see him, then. I wished I could be a boy so I could go to school with him.

"Miss Swan?"

A large hand on mine brought me out of my daydreams with a jerk.

"I'm so sorry. Could you repeat that, please?"

My newest tutor, a young man named Michael Newton, looked at me with a small frown. He was nice enough, I suppose, but he watched me too closely and regimented my studies too rigidly.

"Maybe we should stop here for today, Miss Swan. You seem very distracted. Are you well?"

His hand squeezed my fingers lightly and I pulled them from his grip, looking away.

"Yes, I'm fine. Please excuse me. I just… I must be feeling homesick."

Michael Newton's eyes scrutinized my face. I felt a little jumpy.

"Please, feel free to speak to me about it. I'm not a Chicago native either. It can take some getting used to," he said with an easy smile. The glint in his eye unnerved me, however.

"Thank you for the offer, Mr. Newton. I'm quite fine, really."

"Well then. Shall we continue?"

He pushed my book toward me and I tried to focus.

At three thirty the blonde tutor with his unsettling eyes finally left and Kate took over the rest of my lessions: cooking and embroidery.

I was so weary of it all. Renée and Charlie had both been united in that my education should rival that of any daughter of the upper echelon. If I did indeed become an old maid, at least I would be able to provide for myself as a teacher or governess.

At four-fifteen Kate's criticism of my cross stitch was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Telegram for Miss Bella Swan, ma'am, from the station."

"Thank you. Here's a penny."

Kate walked over and opened the note to read it.

"Bella, stop. Mr. Anthony Masen has invited us to dinner, stop. Meet me at six sharp, stop. 1500 North Astor, Stop. Taxi money in my desk, stop."

My heart was leaping through my throat by the time she finished reading it. Wordlessly I pushed away from my chair with such a force that it toppled backwards. It would take nearly half an hour to get there in time, not including readying myself. Paying the upturned chair no mind, I ran up the stairs, hiking up my skirt to maneuver faster.

My insides had erupted in celebration of my good luck. I could see him again!

I would feel the warmth of Edward's smile again by evening's end!

"Miss Swan! Miss Swan! The devil isn't licking at your heels yet, Miss! Calm yourself."

I perched impatiently in front of my vanity with incredulity undoubtedly written across my face. Kate was rushing around just as hurriedly as I.

She laid out a fresh corset and pulled my sunday dress from the wardrobe. It was more traditional than I would like. I had not bought a new dress in nearly a year, as I had known that Renée would insist on shopping for my debut.

It was just soft blue cotton with a simple empire waist and little delicate embroidery and lace on the skirt and neckline. The skirt was cut to the ankle, a little long for modern fashions, but I had not minded till now.

I held my breath obediently while Kate laced me into the tighter corset, and for the first time I didn't complain as she put heavy silver combs in my hair and pinned up my curls. I pulled up my stockings and clipped my garters in place before stepping into my least comfortable suede shoes. As a last thought I wrapped the two dozen pastries I had baked that evening as a gift to Mrs. Masen.

By five-thirty I felt close to fainting and my heart ached to see Edward Masen again.

The taxi moved too slowly across town and Kate's chattering lost its calming effect once we reached the right street.

"You look lovely, Miss Swan," she whispered as we stepped out. Charlie was waiting on the walk in front of the house.

Edward Masen's row house on Astor street was far grander than ours on nineteenth. A widow's walk wrapped around the high roof of the front porch. The brick georgian structure towered three stories high and the molded detail on the trimmings and above the french windows made it look more like a small manor than a large row house.

A lovely rose garden threatened to encroach on the brick walls. It seemed a fitting home for any of Chicago's elite.

Charlie lent me his arm as he led me to the front door. I stopped breathing once he rang the bell while my other hand trembled.

After only a moment the door opened and a lovely woman smiled at us as the tinkling of a piano drifted out of the hall behind her.

"Chief Swan, Miss Swan, we've been expecting you. Welcome to our home."

She was so elegant, but her beauty and composure seemed effortless. A pang of sadness shot through me - I would never appear so graceful.

She led us down a richly carpeted hallway and as we passed into a sitting room my heart leapt from my chest and into my throat.

Edward Masen did not glance my way immediately. His long fingers caressed the ivory keys of a grand piano almost lovingly and beautiful notes wrapped me up. The sound quieted slightly as Mrs. Masen spoke.

"Edward, darling, Mr. Swan and his daughter have arrived. Won't you come greet them?"

Her voice was impossibly adoring as she looked at her perfect son, and in the warm lamplight of the parlor I saw where his beautiful hair came from. Mrs. Masen's carefully styled locks shined the same bronze hue as her son's.

Immediately Edward stood and came around the piano bench so quickly I wondered how is motion did not blur like that of a humming bird's. He smiled his angel's smile and shook Charlie's hand.

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Chief Swan. My father has been very complimentary of you."

My heart stuttered to a standstill somewhere between my shoulders and nose as he turned his emerald depths on me. His hand slowly took mine and he brought my hand to his lips, kissing my gloved knuckles.

"And a delight to see you again, Miss Swan."

"Again, Edward?" Mrs. Masen inquired, smiling at her son with a delicately arched brow.

He merely smiled and gave her a swift kiss on the cheek.

"Yes, Mother. I had the happy fortune of meeting Miss Swan yesterday on the way to the library."

"Oh? I hope you haven't scared darling Bella with your antics and all your talk of he war," she chided, her lips turning down in the corners in disapproval. A piece of me cheered in agreement.

"Of course not, mother," he said reassuringly, but I saw his wink at me when she turned towards the dining room.

"Please, Mr. Swan, Bella, make yourselves comfortable. I shall return in a moment with coffee."

Charlie finally plucked up the courage to speak to the lovely lady.

"Don't trouble yourself over us, Mrs. Masen. Thank you very much for your hospitality. You have a beautiful home," he mumbled a little gruffly. Poor Charlie never was much good around women, excepting Renée.

Mrs. Masen disappeared through the parlor door and Edward brought my attention back to him.

"Shall I play for you, Miss Swan? Do you have any favorites?"

"I enjoy Debussy…" I said softly, feeling myself blush for the hundredth time in the past five minutes.

"Really? He's one of my favorites as well."

And his angel's smile dazzled me again. He offered me a seat beside the piano and I took it, hardly taking notice of my father frowning in the background. Edward sat at the piano again and his smile relaxed, his eyes lit up as his fingers brushed the keys again.

"Riverde" spilled out of the piano and wrapped me in a cocoon of happiness while I watched him play. I felt I could never be happier than watching him.

Just as the notes trilled to an end Mrs. Masen entered the parlor followed by a man with Edward's straight nose and handsome chin.

I rose as gracefully as I could - only shaking a little - as he introduced himself. Taking my hand and kissing it like his son.

"You must be Miss Swan! Our Edward wasn't exaggerating at all it seems. You are lovely, my dear!" I couldn't help giggling and blushing. Mrs. Masen smiled and swatted her husband's arm playfully.

"Come sit dear and drink some tea before dinner. Apparently I am the only one that hasn't heard a chirp about our dear Bella!"

Mrs. Masen's face was painted with a small pout. Mr. Masen laughed and kissed her! Right in front of us. Charlie cleared his throat uncomfortably and I blushed scarlet, giggling. Edward laughed behind his hand.

"Father, we have company!"

Mr. Masen coughed and smiled easily.

"Well! I seem to have forgotten myself. I'm sorry, Elizabeth, dear. I just couldn't bear your unhappiness. Edward, tell your mother about your meeting Bella."

I blushed. I was going to be embarrassed, I knew. But Edward patted my hand discreetly and pulled the piano bench closer to my seat, smiling. His eyes alight as he began telling it.

"Well, I was walking toward the library, minding my own business, rejoicing in the fact that spring's around the corner and thinking of my lovely Mother's pie when I passed Mrs. Hornby's gate. I tipped my hat at the girls in the yard and was about to buy a Tribune when Mike Newton tapped me on the shoulder. He asked me to thank Father for all his help - you know that nasty business-"

Mr. Masen harrumphed, packing a pipe. "That boy is lucky I owed his father a favor. I had never seen such idiocy. If it weren't for David I would have been the one doing the prosecution, not the defense…"

"Anthony? What do you mean? Michael Newton is Bella's new tutor," said Charlie.

"Her tutor? Good Lord… I forgot you took leave this winter. I'll tell you after dinner. I don't think it's something we should discuss, now."

I frowned, confused. I could have sworn Mr. Masen glanced at me when he said the last. Charlie frowned and nodded.

"Oh, do go on, Eddie!" said Mrs. Masen. I smiled. She must have been a wonderful friend to have as a girl. Edward smile and returned to the story.

"Anyway, Mike asked me to thank you, Father, and I was about to leave when he pointed across the street and stopped me again."

"'Isn't that Isabella Swan?' he asked. I looked across the way and saw Miss Bella walking down the sidewalk with Miss Kate and I remembered what Father had said about the Swans moving to Chicago finally. I asked Mike how he knew the Swans but before he could answer I heard a woman scream and Miss Bella was about to be run down by a car!"

Edward had become animated and Mrs. Masen gasped, her hand covering her mouth delicately.

"Oh no! You weren't hurt, were you darling?" she asked me, and I blushed, nodding.

"Of course I couldn't just stand by so I dashed across the street and pulled Miss Swan out of the way." Edward smiled at me. "And good thing I did, too, or we wouldn't have had such a pleasant stroll back up 41st. I was so distracted by the lovely lady in distress that I quite forgot to return that book I borrowed last week." Edward smiled at me and I felt myself melting inside again. Mrs. Masen smiled and gave her son a sly look.

"Ah hah!" she said, turning to Mr. Masen, "It's happened, Anthony! Look at our boy's eyes! He's been entranced!" she laughed and the sound was just as infectious as Edward's laugh. "I knew something was suspicious about the way he's been humming all about the house at all hours and laughing and not a word about the war! Oh, Eddie!"

For once, I wasn't the only one beet red. Edward looked just as embarrassed as I certainly was. Charlie cleared his throat again, uncomfortable and pink in the cheeks. Mr. Masen laughed.

"Please, everyone excuse my dear Elizabeth. She's been trying very hard to make Edward fall in love to keep him out of Europe. The boy's been trying to sign up ever since the whole mess started," he sighed, patting his wife's cheek. "But of course, we must accept that Edward's a man now, and must make his own decision about his future. Let the boy be, Lizzy."

"I suppose you're right, Tony," she said softly, disappointment evident in her voice and the way she held herself. She released a soft sigh when a bell sounded in the kitchen.

"Ah! Please, everyone let's to dinner, shall we?" Elizabeth stood and hurried out of the room, leaving an uncomfortable silence behind her. Edward smiled despite the awkward note and Mr. Masen put his pipe down on an end table.

"Miss Swan?" Edward had risen and offered me his hand. I tried not to look at my father as I accepted it and rose, allowing him to escort me to the dining room. Charlie and Anthony Masen followed behind us.

The dining room was like the rest of the house: perfectly furnished and current.

Edward pulled out the seat next to Charlie's and I sat, smiling. A quiet maid unfolded my napkin for me and laid it across my lap, doing the same for Charlie, who sat to the right of Mr. Masen. Elizabeth sat on his left and Edward sat across from me.

We ate in silence for a short while, Charlie clearly uncomfortable with the semiformal dinner. A butler served white wine with our lamb and mint jelly. Edward kept smiling at me over the table, passing me things, brushing my gloved fingers when he did.

Elizabeth was the first to break the silence.

"Are you a suffragist, Bella?" her smile was inviting. I hope I wasn't going to fall into a trap. I so wanted her approval… Anyone would, seeing her and watching her smile.

"No, Mrs. Masen but I admire their efforts. Ms. Susan B. Anthony is a revolutionary, in my perspective. I know we are women of comfortable lives, but I knew a lot of girls who could benefit - including myself - by having the vote. The world isn't just for men. It's for us, too."

"Oh, Eddie you _must_ get to know Bella better! I want to see you here often, Bella, dear! We just _have_ to talk! It's been so long since I've had another lady to speak to sincerely. So many are so prudish," trilled Elizabeth. I smiled, blushing again.

After that, things loosened up a lot. Charlie and Mr. Masen talked about work and laughed a little together. Charlie seemed to like Mr. Masen's sense of humor. When dinner was little more than a memory and Mr. Masen had lit up his pipe and Charlie a cigar, Edward pulled my chair out for me and led me outside. The back patio was set in a magnificent garden. A little pond sat in the middle, fish swimming inside. Kate sat by the french doors, rocking in a chair with her knitting as she watched us.

"Miss Bella, I would like your permission to…"

He paused as I looked up at him with wide eyes, blushing.

"Well, Miss Swan, I have to admit what my mother said is true. I… haven't quite been the same since yesterday evening. For the first time in a while my mind isn't just on the war in Europe. It… Well, I've become quite taken with you." he paused again, blushing a little, which surprised me and made my stomach flutter.

"What I'm asking is… May I have your permission to ask to court you, Miss Swan?"

I gasped, my mind reeling. He was seriously interested in me. Not just as a passing glance, a chance acquaintance, but me: Bella. As a woman.

"I… Have you… You shouldn't say such things without consulting your parents, Mr. Masen, I'm not sure I-"

I gasped as Edward's warm hands caught mine and held them to his heart.

"Miss Swan… Bella, I've already asked my Father if he approved of my decision and you heard my mother. She wouldn't be more delighted if I decided to propose to you tonight. Please, say yes. I promise I shall be the best suitor you could have. Please, Bella?"

His eyes smoldered behind dark, long lashes, his lips curled into a hopeful smile. Spots swam before my eyes and I barely registered my body slumping forward.

"Bella?" Edward's angel's voice sounded alarmed. My head felt fuzzy. Part of me realized that I had forgotten to breathe and that my legs had ceased to function. Edward bent and slipped one of his arms behind my knees, cradling me as he walked me to a chaise lounge on the patio.

"Miss Bella!" Kate was at his side at an instant, patting my cheek and smoothing a hair out of my face.

"Please, I'm fine, really. I just… I think I forgot to breathe," I said, giggling a little hysterically.

"Here, drink some of this," said Edward encouragingly, offering me a glass of lemonade. I sipped at it and smiled up at him a little dazedly. Edward waited for me to put down the glass, never letting go of my other hand.

"Please, Bella Swan, consider what I said?" Edward's eyes were smoldering again and I took a slow, deep breath.

"I'm afraid I can't just yet, Mr. Masen… I'm fortunate enough to have a debut. My mother arranged the whole mess and I don't think it would be loyal to her wishes if I accepted your proposal before then. But thank you… Edward."

By the time I had finished the sentence I was red again. But before I could hear what he was about to say, Charlie walked out on the patio, beckoning for me to come with him. I looked back at Edward's crestfallen face as I followed my father back into the house and down the hall, to the front door.

"You're leaving already Charlie? Bella?" Mrs. Masen looked almost as disappointed as Edward.

"I'm afraid so, Elizabeth. Will we be seeing you all at Bella's debut in April? We've yet to send out the invitations, but seeing how well Edward and Bella seem to be getting on…" Charlie finished the thought a little stiffly, obviously not wanting to be rude but also struggling with the idea of my being on the bride market.

"Of course! We'd all love to attend! Do send us the announcement once it's been printed."

"Will do. See you tomorrow, Anthony. Good night, Edward."

Charlie turned on his heel and walked out the door. I followed a little reluctantly after bidding Mr. and Mrs. Masen goodnight. I stole a glance at Edward and blushed.

Half way down the stairs I felt him catch my hand. I turned and gasped as he pressed his lips reverently to the back of my hand.

"Until tomorrow, Miss Swan."

And as his hand slid from my fingers I knew he had stolen a piece of my heart.


	3. A Mother's Love

A/N: I have never owned and never will own anything mentioned in SM's Twilight saga. She is a God. I am a poor student. Enjoy.

Chapter Three: A Mother's Love

The next morning I was surprised to find Charlie waking me instead of Kate.

"Bella, dear, how have your lessons been going since last year?" he asked, taking a seat in the rocking chair Kate usually occupied.

"I have been doing pretty well, Father. I know Latin well. I'm still terrible with needlepoint and on a sewing machine but I'm a decent cook and my grammar and elocution lessons have been mostly successful, I think. Why?"

"Mr. Newton isn't available to tutor you from now on. I wondered if you still think you needed lessons or if you wanted to… If you would like to further your studies on your own."

I stared at Charlie blankly, my eyes wide.

"Really? I'm free to do as I like?"

"I think you're old enough and mature enough to make your own decision, Bells," he said with a crinkly-eyed smile, using his endearment for me.

"Thank you, daddy! I think I'd rather continue my education on my own. The library here is magnificent and I don't think my skills in dance and music is going to improve, even if I continue lessons."

Charlie nodded and patted my hand.

"Then off you go, darling. I have quite a bit to do at work today so be a good girl and help Kate with what you can before going off to do what you like. I'll call if I'm going to be late."

Charlie left the room and Kate came in, smiling.

"So, Miss Bella, what would you like to do today? The wash is done, I've got breakfast for you downstairs, and Mr. Swan left us a wee bit of spendin' money. Shall we go out on the town?"

An hour later, my stomach full of Kate's delicious biscuits, we stood outside of Le Château du Madame DuPont, my face screwed up in a scowl.

"I don't want to, Kate. It's too much. I just won't."

I couldn't believe that she dragged me out of the library to see this place.

"Yes, you will if you don't want to go naked to your own Debut."

I just wouldn't go, simple solution.

"But it's an archaic exhibition of chauvinism, Kate!"

"You'll do it, Miss Swan, or your dear mother –bless her soul- will roll in her grave!"

"Oh, you're terrible, Kate."

"Indeed I am."

And with that she pushed open the door to the French boutique and forced me onto a pedestal for a seamstress to take my measurements. The curtain went up and my clothes were pulled off me.

"Stand still, please, Miss."

The woman with the measuring tape had a fussy French accent and a whine of a voice.

"What is the occasion?"

"Her debut, ma'am," answered Kate at the same time that I muttered "my funeral."

"A debut? Charmante. Debutantes are less and less common these days and the married couples that show up are less and less… shall we say, elegant… because of it."

A few moments passed in silence as the woman measured my sorry excuse for a bust. I was 16 for God's sake. I should have had more curves by now. Renée had.

"Did you know that the traditional debut is a nice way of saying: here is my daughter, available to the highest bidder?"

"Bella!" Kate sounded peeved. I supposed I was being embarrassing.

The seamstress merely tutted.

"Is that Bella Swan I hear?"

I jumped and promptly lost my balance, falling from the pedestal and onto my behind. My scarlet face flushed eggplant as Elizabeth Masen stuck her head inside the curtain.

"Bella, dear! I knew I wasn't imagining things!"

Elizabeth stepped into the dressing area, wearing a high-collared dress with pins holding the sleeves in place. A girl followed her with a worried expression, trying to finish the fitting, I guessed.

"Escuse moi, Madame Masen, I shall be right with you as soon as I am finished measuring Mademoiselle Swan."

Elizabeth Masen smiled at me and I felt my heart swell for the kind, beautiful woman.

"No, take your time, Madame DuPont. I merely heard Bella darling's voice and wanted to make sure I haven't gone mad. The dear is a good friend of my family. Are you being fitted for your ball gown, Bella?"

"Yes, ma'am. Kate forced me in and here I am…" I said with a sigh. I felt so at ease with her.

"Darling, don't despair. I take it you're not exactly a traditional debutante… I wasn't either. I ran around with my brothers in a pair trousers and boots until I turned nine!"

"Sacred bleu!"

The seamstress seamed disturbed by the thought. I laughed.

"If it weren't so scandalous as a mother and a wife, I'd wear them again, too. They are quite a bit more comfortable. Anyway, have you picked a design, yet?"

She brought a catalogue and balanced it on her knee, thumbing through it.

"Oh, this would look darling on you, dear!" she exclaimed, holding up the magazine. The frock was cut to above the ankle, constructed of what seemed to be deep blue satin. The bodice was rouched and shaped into a daringly low sweetheart neckline. Semi-translucent gossamer rose from the low line to the throat, adding back a little modesty. Beading adorned the apex of the sweetheart and a velvet sash wrapped around the waist of the gown. The shapely skirt fell to the floor. The sleeves were capped and adorned with little velvet bows. I couldn't help but be charmed by it.

"It's perfect…"

"It will be stunning on you, dear! Madame DuPont, please order the fabric for this design. You can go ahead and charge the fittings and final delivery to my monthly bill."

I felt my mouth gape open in incredulity at Mrs. Masen.

"Mrs. Masen, please, that's much too generous!"

"Posh. If I'm going to get Eddie to settle down before that darned war seduces him I'll have to find something – or in our case – some_one_ to enchant him. Besides, that dress was designed with you specifically in mind. Do you have shoes to go with it?"

"I… I really don't think I can accept such a gift, Mrs. Masen, I-"

Elizabeth stopped me with a dainty, gloved hand over my mouth.

"Bella I do not think I imagined the looks that passed between you and my Edward last night. If I am right about what they mean then I fully intend for you to marry my son. Now, as your future mother-in-law you can't expect me to let go an opportunity to gift you with something, can you? I'm a woman who knows exactly what she wants and will do anything in her power to see to it that it's done. Is that clear, Bella?"

I nodded, temporarily mute.

"Wonderful! Now then! Madame, please order…"

I stared as she pointed out several more dresses to the French woman. Before I could wrap my head around the mess or think to protest, Mrs. Masen had left my side and emerged from her own dressing area in a lovely walking dress and light coat.

"Come, darling, we must find you some shoes!"

Kate smiled at me conspiratorially as Elizabeth looped her arm in mine and lead me back onto the street. I found that my voice had lodged itself somewhere in my throat and struggled to make it come out. Before I could manage to get out more than a "Mrs.", Elizabeth had silenced me again.

"Don't worry, Bella. It's a gift. If you and Eddie do end up engaged, you shall have to put up with his generosity as well. I am an incredibly selfish and ambitious woman. I will not tolerate my boy going and getting himself killed, and you are the first and only girl he's given even a passing glance. I will not squander this opportunity to make him, you, and myself especially, happy."

And hearing her say it with such conviction, I immediately came to the conclusion that Elizabeth Masen was used to getting her way. And – in spite of my insecurities – I definitely would not fight her. I wanted to be with Edward. Desperately.

My day with Elizabeth was exhausting. I returned home in a taxi, mine and Kate's laps piled with boxes and bags. What was most frightening, though, was that the majority of our – or really Mrs. Masen's – purchases were to be delivered throughout the week.

At least the shopping mania had given me a better understanding of why Elizabeth did not tell Edward to be shod of me. She must have paid more attention to the news reports than to the propaganda than Edward. It was hard to believe that someone so apparently intelligent senselessly desired glory through battle.

Deciding pondering it more wouldn't help anyone, I began dinner while Kate put away the heaps of things that I didn't need.

Edward Masen. Edward Anthony Masen. Mrs. Edward Anthony Masen. Isabella Marie Masen…

Holy Mother of God, I was becoming one of those silly schoolgirls. I giggled a little to myself, winning a strange look from Kate as she came into the kitchen to help me peel potatoes.

Charlie came home long after he was expected. He sighed heavily throughout dinner and pushed his food around the plate rather than eating it. Very out of character. Finally, when I could take no more of the heavy sighs and death glares pointed at nothing, I put down my own fork.

"Father, is there something wrong with your casserole?"

"Hmph… No, Bella, it's… great."

I frowned. He was acting too strangely.

"What's happened, Daddy? Is something the matter? Something at work?"

"You didn't hear?"

"Hear what?"

Without another word Charlie rose heavily from his seat and walked leadenly to the little table by the front door. I sat almost patiently listening to him shuffle through his brief case before returning to the table. He put the _Chicago Tribune_ down in front of me as if it had done him personal damage.

The front page of the evening _Tribune_ was dominated by Uncle Sam, brows arched angrily, finger raised in accusation. Beneath was a story only a few inches long. I wondered why it had upset Charlie so much.

"26 March 1917 – Fiasco in Gaza. After an ongoing struggle over the Suez Canal supply route, Allies were thwarted in their attempts to cut off Turkish forces' advance.

The advance, orchestrated by commander of Eastern Expeditionary Force, Sir Archibald Murray, was planned for 2:30 A.M. this morning. The main assault was led by Major General A.G. Dallas (54th Division, 161st Brigade). Fog shielded the movements of mounted units, which encircled Gaza successfully. Two German aircraft were severely damaged in the offensive. Many Turkish posts were surrounded and staff of the Turkish 53rd were captured.

Infantry, however, failed to position itself until 8:30, thirty minutes after the planned movement. Artillery did not commence bombardment of Ali Muntar (southeast of Gaza) until 9 A.M. Element of surprise lost, the battle deteriorated into embarrassing defeat.

For reasons unknown, reported an anonymous source, Dallas delayed the attack.

"Uncertainty cannot be tolerated when it comes to life and death situations," said one senator after the mission's failure.

Both Dobell and Murray are undergoing investigation after reporting success to British war office.

No report on death toll after agonizing defeat.

America asks Mr. Wilson: would there have been different outcome with American involvement?

Can our troops do better than theirs?"

I put the paper down, feeling my stomach clench uncomfortably.

"It seems they're pushing for more volunteers," I said a little stiffly. Nothing new, right?

"What they didn't report is that there _were_ Americans over there. Some of our boys were on the front lines. Since it was unofficial, the ones that were lost won't be coming home."

I felt sick to my stomach. I could not believe Edward would want to be a part of the mess.

Charlie sighed and put the offending paper away, excusing himself from the table. Kate gave me a long look from the corner and I followed suit, escaping before the sympathy in her eyes made the worry in my heart grow any larger than it was.

I settled into bed early, thinking of Edward, of the war, of Elizabeth.

I definitely understood her desire to keep her son out of the war. It wasn't unpatriotic or cowardly. It wasn't selfish. What business did we have against Turkey? Our fight was with Germany for their attack on American civilians. Edward Masen from Chicago wanted to become one of the names not reported between the lines of lies in the newspaper.

I jumped, startled as something flew against my windowpane. The sound came again, softer this time, and I rose from my bed, pulling on my robe and stepping into slippers before walking to the window. I struggled with the catch for a moment and paused to listen for Charlie when it squeaked open.

The March breeze was cool against my cheeks as I stuck my head out, looking around curiously for the source of the disturbance.

"Miss Bella!"

Below, Edward stood in a light suit, his hat in his hands. He shook it slightly and I heard something click together in it.

"Were you throwing stones at my window, Mr. Masen?" I asked with a laugh.

"Never, Miss Bella! I was merely on my way home and by chance you opened your window."

I laughed again softly, keeping my voice to a whisper.

"If Charlie catches you he'll shoot you, Edward Masen."

"Charlie likes me, I think, Miss Bella. And I am here by happy accident. Why would he shoot me?"

I rolled my eyes and he chuckled. I clutched my robe tighter around myself, still listening hard… just in case.

"Since I'm here, by accident, I want to give you something, Miss Bella," said Edward in his honeyed voice.

"Oh, no more gifts, please!"

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

"I don't want a gift, Edward."

"It isn't a gift! Not really! Merely a token, I promise Miss Swan."

I heard a floorboard creek and ducked. It didn't make sense, I knew, but it was the natural reaction.

"Bella?"

"Hurry, toss it up and go! He'll murder me… This isn't… Becoming." I winced at the last word. I sounded like one of my many tutors.

"'As you wish, Miss Swan!"

I stood back as he drew his arm back. Something small and dark flew through my window, soaring across the room and hitting the wall with a soft tap.

"Sweet dreams, Miss Swan!" I heard him call from the street. I closed my window hastily and turned the light on, looking for whatever it was. A paper plane had lodged itself between my headboard and the wall.

I picked it up gingerly, unfolding it carefully.

Edward Masen's elegant script was written in carefully straight lines in the center of the page.

"How I wish I could fly through your window as well – My body and mind are weak without their heart. But to be separated from you would stop its beats, and so I leave it in your safekeeping. Deny me the pleasure of being your prisoner and you deny me air to breathe. Keep me locked within your lovely hands and you give me wings."

Damn the debut. I would go. I would not disappoint Renée. But it would do me no good. I would see no one else. I didn't care if it wasn't proper. How could I refuse him? How could I, knowing that it was what I wanted, too.

And, if he was busy courting me, then he was not on his way to the recruiter's office.

A/N: Hello readers! Good God I've hit a good time to post. 140 something hits within one day and 8 favorites! Thank you! Please review. Reviews keep me posting. I'm pursuing a writing-related major so any criticism or suggestions are more than welcome! If you think I'm a complete nutter, you can let me know that, too. Sticks and stones and all that. Also, if there's a Beta out there without an author – Look at me! Here I am!

About this chapter: When Carlisle tells Bella about his turning Edward, he emphasizes the determination in Mrs. Masen's demands of him. As we all know, Edward is an extremely stubborn vampire and has a gift of reading people. What with how Renesme turned out, I figured Edward must have inherited his gifts from someone. So, while I organize my mind, the purpose of this chapter is to give us Elizabeth Masen – a woman I imagine to have been very sure of herself, very good at reading the people around her (though not like her son) and proper, but with a twist. Most intelligent people have one or two of those, as well. As for why we're not hearing news on the radio – the first news program was not broadcast until 1920, and radio had yet to be commercialized. Newspapers were in their prime.

I would like to have at least 20 reviews before I post past chapter six. That's four reviews per chapter. After seeing how many hits I've gotten I'd love to hear your opinions. Those of you who have favorited or reviewed this story have received (I think, anyway) a thank you from me. Keep reading!


	4. Debut

A/N: I have never owned and never will own anything mentioned in SM's Twilight saga. She is a God. I am a poor student. Enjoy.

Chapter Four: Debut

The morning came and with it a strange feeling of elation. For once in my life I felt like I fit in with society's idea of women. I was in love, I was young, and I had a closet full of dresses I didn't need – that part I could care less of.

I reread Edward's note to me and decided that today would be spent how I liked. I would go to the library and study. If I happened to come across Edward, wonderful. If I did not… well, the day would be much gloomier, but I would survive.

"What do you want to do today, Miss?" asked Kate. As usual, I had woken too late to help her with anything.

"Actually, I thought I'd go to the library. It's not far and I can go on my own if you're busy." Kate looked at me a little thoughtfully.

"I'll take you there meself and do my errands while you read. I can't let you go by yourself, Miss."

I sighed, my feeble attempt at winning a little more freedom thwarted.

Half an hour later, I left our row house in a walking dress and newly shined boots, courtesy Kate, of course. Today the cold had dissipated just a little more, though the wind still slapped at my face and blew my skirt around me as I walked up the street.

The library was a magnificent improvement to my tiny collection of books back home. Inside, a librarian gave me an account and a schedule for readings and book club meetings. There was even a sewing machine class on Fridays designed to help young ladies. I pointedly stuffed the pamphlet into the little purse I carried.

"Miss, I must be off to the market for our supper. Stay out of trouble and don't wander and I shall be back within an hour, alright Miss?"

Kate was looking over a little list with a frown and I smiled, squeezing her hand.

"I'll be fine, Kate, go ahead. I'll be here so just look for me in one of the reading areas."

Kate bustled off and I frowned, feeling guilty when I saw the threadbare hem of her shawl and the poor state of her boots. I would put one of my dresses (none of which I really needed) in her armoire tonight, whether she liked it or not. And a pair of boots.

I scowled as I walked through the aisles, and became increasingly aggravated that I could not force myself to focus on the titles I read and reread.

In my mind, Edward's face, his words, and the evil black newsprint I had read last night kept resurfacing.

I finally sighed and turned, leaning against the shelf in frustration as I looked through the window out at the street. Chicago was much too gloomy for me. _Give me sunshine, God, please,_ I prayed.

"Miss Swan!"

I jumped and whirled, knocking over a cart of books to be stacked in the process. Michael Newton laughed, his light eyes full of mirth as I scrambled to pick up the fallen volumes. Someone shushed us from a few aisles over.

"I see your coordination hasn't improved any," he said, stooping to help.

I glared at my toes, not answering, feeling a little insulted by him. I didn't know what Charlie had against him, but I had decided for myself: Mike Newton was not on my Christmas list.

I hurried to finish putting the books on the narrow wrack and ended up knocking more off. Michael caught my hand and held it.

"Let me. You just sit and enjoy the view, Miss Swan."

Truly? Was I imagining this nonsense?

What was it about Chicago that made all the men go mad? No one in Tinley Park had paid me half as much attention.

"Thank you for your assistance, Mr. Newton," I managed as he straightened. He looked at me strangely. I didn't like it.

"A pleasure to help you, Miss Swan." I turned to leave and winced when I felt a hand catch my arm and hold it too tightly. I gave it a firm tug, trying to break free.

"Is there something you want, Mr. Newton?" I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Several things do I want, Miss Swan, but I was just wondering if all the buzz about your debut is true. Even Mayor Thompson's daughter didn't have one."

"I don't see how that is any of your business, Mr. Newton. If you'll excuse me."

I made it just past aisle four when I felt fingers brush me again. I reeled, my purse in my left hand, ready to beat Michael Newton's stupid face till it bled –

"Ow! Bella, really, it's not nice to hit people."

"Edward!" My voice raised an octave and earned me another "shush" from an unknown location. He chuckled and I started again in a whisper.

"What are you doing here? You surprised me!"

"To read, silly girl, what else does one come to a library for?"

"Oh, I thought…"

"And to assail pretty girls between the shelves, of course," he said with a wink. I giggled, blushing scarlet. "But why did you try to clog me with your purse? I didn't take you for a violent woman, Miss Bella."

I chewed my lip, wondering how he would react to Michael Newton's treatment of me. Not well, probably.

"Bella, you're driving me insane. Please tell me what you're thinking? I can see your emotions play across your face but I can't come up with the slightest reason why they're there."

"Why must I tell you what I'm thinking? Brains are private places, don't you know."

"Even if that's so, usually I can guess what people are thinking… but not you. It's extremely intriguing. Other girls I've spoken to are painfully obvious about every little thing that pops into their heads. Either that or they lack a filter between brain and mouth. You, on the other hand, Bella Swan, are an enigma. I find I'm quite drawn to the mystery."

I absorbed that for a moment and decided I'd rather tell him than think about the "other girls" he must have known.

"Michael Newton startled me and made me turn over a book cart."

"Mike Newton?" Edward seemed disturbed by the knowledge. How strange.

"And he helped me clean up, of course, but then when I was leaving he asked me about my debut and I told him to butt out and-"

"Bella, Bella, I'm confused. Why would that motivate you to hit me?"

Edward seemed on the verge of laughing, though the confusion he spoke of was evident in his perfect eyes.

"He's rude and obnoxious and incorrigible, that's all. I was planning on beating him for having the nerve to touch me again but-"

"Again?" Edward sounded alarmed. His hands took mine and held them to his heart. "Bella you mustn't let him get too close to you, do you understand me? When did he try to touch you before?"

"He grabbed my arm after I dismissed him, before he asked about the party." I didn't want to say _my_ party. I wouldn't be having one if it were up to me. Edward looked angry. I pulled my lower lip between my teeth, reaching up and smoothing my fingertip across his brow. His beautiful emerald eyes widened and I blushed, quickly pulling my hand back to rest innocently at my side.

"Why are you upset?" I asked softly, looking down.

"I… Bella, I must ask you to keep a secret. I don't want to scare you. I just think considering your… acquaintance-" Edward scowled so violently I was a little scared "-you should be aware."

Edward lowered his voice to a whisper and took my hand again, leading me to an armchair tucked in the corner of the library. He sat across from me on a ladder, running a hand through his gorgeously messy hair.

"This past winter, Mike Newton was courting Jessica Stanley. Mr. Stanley is a local merchant and owns quite a bit of the shipping yard. Miss Stanley hasn't had any other suitors and was delighted when Newton asked her to accompany him to the opera. Sometime that evening, Newton separated Miss Stanley from her chaperone, apparently under the pretense that she had said to go ahead. Newton became a little… over-amorous-" Edward said the word with heavy sarcasm, looking away. "-And when the chaperone finally found Miss Stanley, she was in tears and had suffered a great loss."

I gasped, my hand over my mouth, my eyes wide.

"John Lucas Newton, Michael's father, came to my father that night begging him to help defend his son in the resulting lawsuit. Of course Miss. Stanley's parents pressed charges. She is most fortunate that the media didn't get a hold of it or her reputation would have been smeared indefinitely.

"Father agreed, reluctantly, to build a case so that Michael Newton would escape the death penalty. Back when they were boys, John Newton pulled Father out of a well, you see. My father's defense was so good, however, that Michael also escaped incarceration. The jury deemed that beyond Miss Stanley's word, there was no concrete evidence of any… crime… actually occurring. Father hasn't spoken to either Newton since. The Stanley's hate us, of course. That is what Father regrets the most – that for once, he could not serve justice."

A long pause passed between us and I chewed my lip some more, staring at my hands. It felt as if I had swallowed a piece of ice whole.

"That's… awful," I said finally, my shoulders slumped. Poor Jessica Stanley. Poor Mr. Masen. Poor John Newton to know his son had done something so heinous.

Edwards long fingertips brushed my cheek and I felt flames erupt from the spot. His thumb slid over my abused lower lip and I shivered slightly, my eyes entranced by his.

"I worry you'll chew it off. I worry that I've distressed you, Miss Swan," he said in a velvet murmur, barely above a whisper. "Please know, Miss Swan… Nothing can harm you while you are with me. I couldn't let it, not ever. I would die first."

I leaned into his touch as it grew firmer and cradled my cheek. Edward's fingers slid across my jaw line to cup my chin, lifting slightly. He leaned toward me, his emerald depths smoldering beneath the dark fringe of lashes. His perfect mouth grew closer…

"ISABELLA SWAN! WHAT IN THE BLESSED MOTHER'S NAME ARE YOU DOING!"

Both of us jumped apart. I registered knocking over the little end table beside the armchair as Kate, laden with grocery baskets, stormed toward me, her red hair frizzed beneath her cap and her face ruddy with anger.

I stood and stared at my feet, my own face as drained of color as Edwards must have been. I clenched my hands together to stop them shaking. Charlie would murder me upon hearing this. Mrs. Masen would be so disappointed.

"Please, Miss Kate, it wasn't what it looked like… Well… actually it was exactly what it looked like, but I can explain. You see, Bella was distraught and I-"

But the murderous glint in Kate's eye silenced him as she turned on him, her tiny finger shoved against his breast pocket.

"And you, cheeky devil that you are, I'll flog you within an inch of your life if I see you near my wee Miss before her debut. You hear me? Out, out with you. To church with you! Oh, you're a lucky lad I'm too kindly to tell your poor mother! The nerve of young people! Off with you!" Kate shook her fist at him, poking him in the chest and backing him towards the door.

I hid my face in my hands, feeling the acute desire to disappear into the marble floor. Some girls giggled behind gloved hands in the main reading area. Oh, to be invisible would be a blessing, I think.

The rest of the evening, Kate glared at me. A lot. And muttered to herself a lot. She said a lot about the Blessed Virgin, too, but I couldn't help but be angry with her for interrupting what _could_ have been. Improper or not, a kiss from Edward Masen would have been the highlight of a very depressing year.

Charlie came home at half-past four, sat down to dinner at five, and put down his fork at five-thirty to look across the table at me.

"So, Bella, how was your day?"

_I almost kissed a boy, today, Charlie._

"I went to the library, Father. It's lovely. Kate ran some errands then we came home."

"Is that all? Did you think about your debut at all? Have you decided whom to invite?"

"I think Mother made a list. I'll go get the invitations printed tomorrow."

"Good girl. It is the 27th already, isn't it? You'll have to pull it together by when? It's on the 7th isn't it?"

A sinking feeling overtook me.

"I think so, yes."

"Well. You'd better get a move on then, shouldn't you?"

After dinner, Kate and I cleared the table. She was still grumbling under her breath. But before I could get more frustrated with her she pushed a box at me.

"You'll address those before bed, and I had better hear you saying your prayers before you sleep, Missy."

She kissed my cheek and smoothed my hair before going upstairs to bed.

I opened the box and felt Renée's absence hit me like an avalanche. The heavy invites screamed Renée so loudly I wondered how Charlie couldn't hear. They were heavy white cotton paper, wildflowers pressed into the sheets to create a soft, pretty texture. A piece of vellum was sewn on each card with a little bow at the top, and the invitation itself was printed on this. The envelopes were tied in a neat stack inside the box as well. I sighed and pulled the address book from a kitchen cabinet.

The morning of my debut came too quickly. True to her word, Kate had not once allowed Edward Masen to come within five feet of me during the eleven days between our encounter at the library and April 7th. The most I had seen of him had been in passing on the other side of the street. But for every day that I had not been able to speak to Edward, there had been a note. Once it was tied in the creeping ivy that wove its way up the house and past my window. Another time there had been a paper rose on my windowsill. Then a paper heart had been slipped into the tiny crack between the windowpanes.

Last night, a lock of bronze hair, tied with a dainty white ribbon, had been left on the sill in a tiny folded paper box. It wasn't until this morning that I discovered that the box itself had been the note and it joined the others in my dresser drawer.

But for now, I could do nothing bus think about my lonely week. Kate had me all but tied to the chair before my vanity. The dress Mrs. Masen had ordered for me was draped across my bed, perfect and far too luxurious, and beyond unnecessary. I wondered why Mrs. Masen hadn't simply suggested to Charlie that Edward and I be betrothed. It was common enough.

"Remember, Miss, that you shouldn't give more than two dances to any partner until you've danced with everyone."

"Yes, Kate."

"And I don't want to see you dancing only with Mr. Masen after that, too, do you understand?"

I glared at the floor but nodded.

I hated social etiquette. After this business was over I would buy a pair of trousers and wear them all over town. Edward certainly wouldn't mind.

"This is your formal introduction to Chicago society so I hope you will be on your best behavior, Miss Swan," she said. She sounded teary eyed.

"Yes, this is the polite way of saying 'here I am, look at my bust. Look at my face. Look at my lovely arms. Don't I look like the perfect bride?'"

Kate promptly swatted my back for it, of course.

Six O'clock came and went. Kate said it was the guest of honor's privilege to be "fashionably late". My heart thrummed in my chest as Charlie, dressed in his best suit and looking positively miserable, handed me out of the rented Detroiter Touring car. My lace-gloved hand gripped the door hard as I stepped down from the red leather seat. I carefully placed my heeled foot on the ground as a valet took my free hand, and then it was only a few steps to the dreaded debut.

The Atlantic, previously known as the Kaiserhof, was lit up like Christmas. A green velvet carpet had been rolled out of the grand foyer to the curb. A few photographers from the newspapers made me stop for a photo or two. They were always so prompt about reporting the latest social event… Too bad they couldn't do much else truthfully.

The winter garden had been transformed to accommodate a small stage for a pianist. The main ballroom was already swinging with bodies. The classic waltz slowly melted away as I was led in. My father grimaced as someone took a photo. A flashbulb cracked underfoot as I made my way in, and before I could get my bearings, I was whisked into a dance. The little orchestra on stage whipped the guests into frenzy – me along with them.

I was passed from boy to boy, not remembering the faces. My skirt was trodden on a couple of times and I couldn't tell whether my partner or I did the treading. Two things stood out in my mind: the impossibility of staying on my feet for the next four hours, and the fact that I had yet to feel the pair of hands I needed.

"Bella Swan, what a surprise!"

I looked into the face of my current dance partner and blanched. I hadn't seen Tyler Crowly since I attended the clapboard school back in Tinly Park.

"Tyler… I thought you were engaged to Lauren. What are you doing here?"

"I received an invitation of course," he said, sweeping me off the dance floor. We stopped near one of the buffets. A waiter in a vest offered me champagne and I refused why Tyler pulled out one of the invitations. Funny I couldn't remember writing one to him.

"You came all the way from Tinly Park?"

"No…" his smile faltered and he looked a little uncomfortable.

"I was here already… Angela sent me to give you this."

Tyler pulled an ivory envelope from his shirt pocket and gave it to me. Angela's neat script was a welcome sight. I read through it once, twice, three times.

"She's… married..? And pregnant?"

"Yes! Isn't it exciting? That trip she took to her aunt's wasn't to her aunt's! She and Eric eloped and she's expecting."

"I'm a little miffed that she didn't tell me she was going to... elope."

"Well, there you have it. I just figured, since I was here and since you were having a party… I got the invitation from my brother. He couldn't come, obviously."

There was an awkward silence in which Tyler looked at me and I stared at my shoes.

"You look really beautiful, Bella. I wish-"

But whatever he wished fell on deaf ears. I pushed past him, grinning ear-to-ear, to run into the waiting arms of my angel. Edward was glorious in a tuxedo. The music changed and he took my hand in his, sliding my left to his shoulder, his hand traveling down my side, leaving fiery trails over my ribcage before coming to rest at my waist.

"Miss Bella you look utterly indecent, tonight," he whispered as he pulled me closer to his chest. I followed his lead; his strong hands guided me and I found that tripping was no longer a problem.

"Funny… Because it's your mother that picked this outfit for me," I said, blushing at his words.

"Hmmm… Mother has always played dirty whenever she wants something," he laughed and I frowned slightly. "But that doesn't matter anymore… If I were to defy her now I would also defy that which my heart vehemently insists."

My own heart stuttered in my chest, beating a rapid tattoo against my ribs. I wondered if he could hear.

"Miss Swan?"

"Yes, Mr. Masen?"

I looked into his glowing eyes and felt myself pulled in again.

"May I have the pleasure of courting you henceforth?"

I felt intoxicated. The scent of him and the sound of his voice and the warmth of his hands on me left me drunk. All I could manage was one word.

"Yes."

A/N: Hello readers! Thank you, those of you who reviewed and favorited.

About this chapter: Until the early 1900's, it was common for young ladies to have a social debut. This is, of course, the origin of the word "debutante." It is also the origin of the modern sweet sixteen. At this point in 1917 Bella's life, she is 16 and a half, give or take a few weeks. Her party was delayed because of her mother's illness and the fact that she was not yet living in Chicago. This is the car Bella arrives in: .

And this is the hotel: .

As always, please review. Please let me know what you think. I'll finish it for my own pleasure but to post it is for yours. Let me know how you're enjoying it.

Happy reading!

-Forensica X


	5. Till Death do us Part

Disclaimer: I have never owned and never will own anything mentioned in SM's Twilight saga. She is a God. I am a poor student. I never have and never will profit from this. Se la vie. Enjoy.

Chapter Five: Until Death do us Part

Comparatively, the proposal and the engagement were short affairs. The day we went to Sunday services together was the day that Edward asked Charlie's permission for my hand. Then he got down on one knee and presented me with a diamond ring nestled in a black satin box. It was from Elizabeth's era, and it made me happy that such a large piece of Edward's past was following us into our joined future.

The preparations for the wedding barely registered in my mind. I knew that I would be a summer bride and not much else. A gown had been designed for me by Elizabeth and someone in New York that I had never heard of. To Kate it was nearly scandalous. To Elizabeth, it represented the power of a woman in a man's life. To me… it was just a dress. And Edward seemed to not care if I decided to go in my bloomers.

But as the end of May approached, I felt myself growing more and more anxious. Edward had begun working with the Masen law firm, and under his father's tutelage he quickly became the premiere young lawyer for anyone pursuing another's just desserts. But despite his zealous involvement in the Chicago legal scene, Edward grew increasingly restless. Every evening he sat on my front porch with me, talking to me, drinking lemonade. And every night he kissed my hand in good-bye. But beneath his love-stricken surface I could still see the desperate desire to accomplish some great glory.

Elizabeth told me not to worry. It was her opinion that I had the ability to make him settle down. I refrained from telling her that I wouldn't, if leaving would make him happy. So long as I could say he was mine, I could let him go… I thought.

It was May 29th. I had risen from kneeling beside my bed in prayer. Kate had stopped rocking and knitting. My satin and lace gown was hung inside my wardrobe. The long lace and organza veil was draped across my vanity mirror. Kate had bought the tiniest amount of perfume and rouge for me as a wedding gift. "It isn't so improper when you and your husband are alone," she had said with an impatient huff.

The idea of being "alone" together was what currently held my mind. Renée had explained to me when my monthlies started that women had certain duties. I couldn't help but think, then, that it didn't sound pleasant – what my mother described. But now, I wasn't so sure. I knew that it must involve nudity, as Kate had often equated nudity to something private and taboo. I wished desperately that I could speak to Angela. She knew what it was like. She would have been able to tell me… something.

It felt akin to stage fright. I had participated in one church pageant before promptly telling Renée that I would never go out in public again should I have to repeat the experience. How could one trust someone with all their flaws, all that they are, blindly?

The wedding frightened me only a little – I knew that afterwards, Edward would be tied to me unconditionally, forever, and that I would feel his arms around me every day, without restriction.

A tapping at my window pulled me from my musings. I ran to it, knowing who would be waiting outside.

"What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Bella is the sun!"

I whispered into the impenetrable darkness, the heat of late May wrapping around me like a cocoon.

"Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art though Romeo?"

"Speak again, sweet angel."

"…Edward?" I sounded less sure than I wanted to.

"Are you getting cold feet, my love?" Edward asked, sounding worried.

"No… are you?"

"Definitely not." And the laughing sound in his voice made me believe him.

"Edward, I'm… not frightened exactly. Just…"

"I know what you mean, love."

We were quiet for a moment, Edward's dark figure leaning against the brick expanse of wall beneath my window.

"Edward? Do you remember our first kiss?"

"Of course I do, Bella. You fainted."

"I did not… I was wondering, is that… feeling… like what… like…"

My voice trailed off. I couldn't ask. But Edward seemed to understand. He always did. It was like he could read me.

"… I do not know, Bella. I am just as pure as you are, my love. My… friends… at university have told me that it's a great pleasure." Edward sounded uncomfortable. I felt myself blushing. This was not the sort of thing people discussed, I was sure.

"They told me ladies don't seem to enjoy it as much, but…"

I frowned, hearing nothing but rustling for a moment. I stifled a yelp as Edward's face appeared just over my windowsill, illuminated by the light of the moon and stars.

"The ivy won't hold you, Edward! Get down before you hurt yourself!"

"No."

Without further adieu he hoisted himself into the room and sat on the edge of my bed. I blushed and took the rocking chair, holding my robe tighter about me.

"Bella… we don't have to do anything until you're ready. I'm a man, I suppose I was born ready for… ahem… Anyway. I love you. Nothing can change that. And how we demonstrate our love is up to you. I will never require anything of you but your affections."

He smiled at me, his cheeks reddened, and I smiled.

"So no reason to worry?"

"None, love."

Edward patted my bed and I walked to it, curling up under the blanket. He tucked me in and kissed my forehead, stroking my hair. He whispered songs in my ear until I fell asleep.

In the morning I woke alone. Outside my bedroom door I heard Kate scuttling back and forth in the hall, probably trying to help Mrs. Masen gather up all of the bits and pieces that would culminate in a wedding.

I dragged my feet on the way to my vanity and counted to myself. I could hear Kate bustling around out there.

"Miss Bella, up you get!" She threw open the door, looking to my bed first before her eyes settled on me.

"There you are, Miss. Let's get you into your corset and I'll lace you up. Mrs. Masen will be in to help you with your hair."

And so it began. I was laced into a corset and while I clipped my garters to my stockings, Mrs. Masen started pinning my curls up close to my face. She braided a couple sections and pinned them up. I tried not to look into the mirror while Elizabeth carefully fitted the gossamer cap over my hair. It was lined with lace and lovely little bits. The veil, which felt heavy when I moved, trailed to the floor.

I stepped carefully into my dress. The back was constructed of lace, pearl buttons fastening from the neck to well past my derriere. The waist was dropped and cinched subtly with a silver-lined sash. My hem rose well above the ankle, showing off dainty white satin shoes. The two layers of gown – silk draped carefully over intricate lace – swayed gently as I stood and picked up my bouquet. Kate had wrapped a painted white rosary around the base of my bouquet. It was gigantic, almost overwhelmingly so, but Mrs. Masen assured me that it was perfectly appropriate for a young bride.

Elizabeth kissed my cheek and Kate held my hand as we made our way down the stairs. Kate held my train for me. Edward's little cousins, an adorable girl and boy – twins – waited at the base of the stairs with a little basket and pillow in hand. My heart started drumming madly in my chest as the gold bands nestled there caught the light.

Oh God.

I wasn't ready to walk down an aisle. I wasn't even 17 yet. I needed to… live a little longer, join the suffragists, read Moby Dick from beginning to end, I couldn't name it, but I was suddenly terrified of leaving the safe haven of my little row house. I felt and heard a series of gasps leave my lungs, and, more acutely, the nausea that overtook me.

"Bella!"

I looked up and was surprised to see a very pregnant Angela standing there, looking worried.

"Angie?"

She had cut her long black hair short. Her bridesmaid dress draped over her round tummy and distracted me momentarily from my dizzy spell.

"Angela, I didn't think you'd be able to come..!"

Mrs. Masen held tight to me, steadying me, while Angela cupped my cheek.

"I couldn't miss this! I'm so happy you're getting such a lovely wedding. How could I let you walk down the aisle without a bridesmaid? Besides, I never get to see you dressed up. You look terrific, Bella! So chic!"

I couldn't help but let out a hysterical giggle. Elizabeth rubbed my arm comfortingly and gave my hand a squeeze.

"It's Edward waiting for you, Darling. You don't have to be afraid. Tonight, you'll be going home with him."

I tried to pull myself together as I was ushered into the waiting Oldsmobile. Charlie climbed in beside me, looking particularly dashing in a crème colored suit. He fiddled with his hat, turning it over in his hands as we drove to the chapel on Astor.

"Bella…" He cleared his throat, his eyes glistening as he looked at his hands. Charlie was a wonderfully easy person to live with. We never spoke about our feelings and I could tell how hard it was for him, now. I was just like him – it was hard for me, too.

"I know, Daddy. Thank you… I promise to be very happy. I promise to call, and visit, and make you dinner on Sundays. And I know Edward will take very good care of me."

"I know, Bells. I love you, girl," he patted my satin-gloved hand and before I knew it, we had stopped.

A couple of alter boys stood by the doors, holding them open for me. Music streamed out of the chapel. My heart beat faster and faster, drowning the sound to a dull hum. Kate walked into the chapel first. Mrs. Masen followed after her, blowing me a kiss. Then Angela. Charlie gave my arm a small tug as my cue trilled through Wagner's March.

"Don't let me fall," I whimpered. Charlie held my hand tight to his arm as we walked into the church. The velvet carpet was soft and treacherous under my heels. I felt my face flushing darker scarlet while the guests rose. Little bunches of white roses and lilies tied with gossamer ribbons adorned the ends of the pews. I walked beneath white arches woven with roses and orange blossoms. And then, my eyes fell on Edward's face.

His beautiful gemstone eyes were lit up and his lips were spread in a triumphant smile. Suddenly, Charlie's hand on mine became a restraint. It took the gentle pressure from his fingers to keep me from bolting headlong towards my love.

Finally, we reached the precipice and Charlie carefully placed my hand in Edwards – I was home.

"Dearly beloved…" the reverend began. I barely registered the words. Finally Edward took my left hand in his and plucked the delicate gold band from the ring bearer's cushion.

"Bella, I promise to love you forever. I will respect you completely. I will honor the gift you give me today. I will always provide for you and your needs. And I will cherish you from now until the day I die."

He held the ring near my finger, not yet sliding it into place. My voice did not waver as I looked into my love's eyes, even as my hand trembled while I picked up Edward's wedding band.

"Edward, I promise to support you in all your endeavors. I promise to be a compassionate and understanding wife and mother. Above all, I promise to love and cherish you forever."

The reverend's baritone broke through the spell Edward's eyes held me in. I blinked and realized I had begun crying.

"Do you, Isabella Marie Swan, take Edward to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do."

"And do you, Edward Anthony Masen, Jr., take Isabella to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do."

The adoration and exultation in his voice made me warm all over. I trembled a little with my happy sobbing.

"Then it is my pleasure to present, by the power vested in me by the State of Illinois and by the Anglican Church, Mr. And Mrs. Edward Anthony Masen. Edward, you may kiss your bride."

And Edward pulled me into his arms gently, cupped my cheek in his hand, and kissed me. I threw my arms around his neck and the crowd had broken into titters and coughs by the time he finally pushed me away.

We turned to face the gathered guests and were inundated with family. I was passed from one set of arms to another, but Edward never let go of my left hand. I recognized my father's shy embrace and Angela's awkwardly hindered one, and finally Elizabeth Masen's arms wrapped tightly around me, nearly cutting off my air before we were ushered out onto the sidewalk. The guests followed Edward and I down the walk to the Masen home.

A few photographers from the _Tribune _snapped photos, blinding me with the flashbulbs. Edward finally shielded me from them, but as soon as we were inside his home, Elizabeth had pulled us into the parlor to be bombarded with more flashes.

Charlie fidgeted uncomfortably as I was led to sit in one of the elegant little chairs in front of the fireplace. Edward stood behind me, holding my hand, the smile still hitched to his perfect face. I insisted that Kate stand in the photo as the rest of the bridal party surrounded us. Mr. Masen put a hand on his son's shoulder. Charlie lent his arm to Elizabeth. Angela smiled and cradled her swollen tummy beside Kate. Edward's little cousins stood on either side of me, their little fists clenching my skirt.

The reception was the product of Elizabeth Masen's relentless planning. The gated in back yard was decorated with the same lovely bunches of flowers. Little candles in glass retainers floated above our heads, hung from the oak and cherry branches above. The trees threw enough shade that the space seemed confined and intimate, and the party reflected that. A quartet and a pianist played from the patio while guests twirled on the parquet dance floor assembled that morning.

Edward led me onto the dance floor and we twirled just as gracefully as the others. Once in a while another camera went off nearby and Edward would spin me to the other side of the dance floor, away from the harassment.

As the sun began to make its descent, someone rang a bell for dinner to begin. We took our seats at the main table, between Charlie and Mr. Masen. I barely concentrated on my food, mostly staring at Edward. Edward gave up on insisting I eat, settling for feeding me bits of food and cake from his own silver fork. Too soon, I had to return to the dance floor.

Charlie and I swayed in an awkward circle. He had never had the "privilege" of lessons, and my clumsiness had been inherited. Together we were nothing short of dangerous if we attempted anything more intricate than an unsightly two-step.

Tyler Crowly stole my hand next, dancing one song, before I was passed to another set of arms.

"Bella, I sincerely hope you and Edward are happy," said Mr. Masen. He smiled at me and I blushed, smiling back. "Our Edward has always been a difficult boy. Stubborn and sure of himself. He has been a changed man since meeting you. It's the first time he's shown any enthusiasm for a normal life."

"I'll do my best to take care of him, Sir."

"Bella, you're part of the family. I hope you'll call me Anthony or Father. We're blessed he's found you."

And then I was passed to another partner. And another. I was surprised to realize that most of the men in attendance were bachelors that had also attended my debut.

"Quite a little party you have here, Bella."

I looked up to find myself in Michael Newton's arms. How in God's name had he been allowed in?

"Don't worry. I am now Mr. Jessica Stanley," he scoffed in a way that made me feel terrible for this unknown Miss Stanley. "I assume Edward told you the story? Her parents decided that their daughter couldn't attract a better suitor. I have to admit though, I would have much rather preferred to have been _your_ husband, Bella."

"Excuse me, Newton, but I believe that it's the groom's privilege to monopolize the bride's time."

I smiled up at him gratefully. Edward's hard gaze softened slightly and he removed his hand from Michael's shoulder. Edward's hands were firm at my waist, gripping a little tighter than usual.

"Are you alright?" I asked softly, leaning my cheek against his chest.

"…I have a gift for reading people, Bella, save for you. I could quite literally murder Newton for what I see in his face when he looks at you."

Edward's arms wrapped tighter around me and I sighed.

"I'm Mrs. Bella Masen, not Newton. Don't worry about them. Just think about us."

And his answering smile convinced me that his worries had dissipated.

"I am beyond blessed to have had the fortune of meeting you, Mrs. Masen."

The party wound down long past dark. After toasts had been raised and blessings given, it was time for Edward and I to retire to our new home.

He helped me into the touring car. Streams of ribbons hung from the rear bumper, white roses tied in them.

The drive was quiet. Kate would be coming to live with us after tonight. For now, he would go home with Charlie and help him pack up my things.

Edward shifted the car into gear and held my hand gently.

"I love you, Mrs. Masen."

"I love you."

"Shall we?"

We pulled up in front of our new home. He parked by the curb and made me wait to come around to my side. He opened the door for me, but before I could put my feet down he looped his arms under me one behind my legs and the other behind my back.

He swung open the low wrought-iron gate and carried me up the stairs. He fumbled for a moment with the locked door. As I held my breath he opened the door and carried me across the threshold. I felt the butterflies come back tenfold as it swung closed behind us with a soft click.

A/N: Don't get too comfortable. For now, yes, it's going well for the fairytale couple but Edward's past as we know it hasn't disappeared in my version of history. At this point we've reached May, almost June 1917. Those who paid attention in _New Moon_ know that Edward Anthony Masen Sr. dies from the first wave of Influenza, sometime in the winter, early spring of 1918. Edward and his mother loose their fight to the illness in the second wave, summer of 1918. For you, that means you get to enjoy a year of Edward-Bella goodness.

Edward's fate does not change. I'm not quite sure yet how I'm going to reunite our lovely couple, but I know for sure that they will be separated and that Edward will be bitten.

As always, happy reading, hope you review.


	6. Mrs Bella Masen

Disclaimer: I have never owned and never will own anything mentioned in SM's Twilight saga. She is a God. I am a poor student. I never have and never will profit from this. Se la vie.

Warning: If you are under the age of 16 you should not read this chapter. Skip it. It is not vital to the plot. There are reasons why this story is rated Mature, and here is one of them. I have been as subtle and tasteful as I possibly can while still giving the reader a more intimate look into Bella's experience. However, if you are either too young or innocent to view adult material, you should skip this chapter. It is not vital to the plot in any way.

For the rest of you… Enjoy.

Chapter Six: Mrs. Bella Masen

Edward carried me into the lit foyer and put me down gently. I looked up at him, my heart beating madly in my chest. He took my hand and led me through the house slowly, showing me what he had done so far with his mother to make the place a home we could be proud of.

77 East Elm was beautiful. The foyer opened up to a perfect dining room. The hardwood floors shined. Newly-polished, probably. Every room save the kitchen seemed to have a beautifully carved fireplace. Edward led me up the stairs, past opened doors to the master bedroom.

I barely registered the opened French doors to the balcony and the ornate gold fireplace near the door. The mahogany four-poster pushed against the center of the wall took my attention. Someone had already turned down the bedding. Luxurious goose-down pillows were piled against the carved headboard. Edward paused beside me, his eyes drawn to the bed as well. I tried to look away from it, taking in the other furnishings of the too-grand room.

"I'll… go lock up," said Edward softly. He brushed his fingertips over my cheek before leaving. I went to the balcony, letting the wind blow my gown around me. I stood for a moment, looking out at downtown Chicago. The lights stayed on in this city. The scent of car exhaust and rain-washed concrete was an ever-present reminder that the elegance of society rested upon a basis of booming business.

I turned away from the night and took off my veil carefully, draping it over the vanity mirror. My nearly empty jewelry box already stood on one of the vanity's tiers. Renée's silver backed brush and mirror set lay there, along with the little velvet box that held my engagement ring.

I walked the length of the room, pausing by the mantle to examine the framed photos. Edward in a school uniform, Elizabeth looking elegant in her own wedding gown, Charlie and Renée in a rowboat on a lake. I started pulling out hairpins as I continued my exploration of my – our – new bedroom. Edward must have been taking his time to give me more privacy. As I pulled out my 20th pin, I discovered the bathroom. A beautiful ceramic tub with copper fixtures stood beneath a glass block window. Opposite the tub was a toilet, a commodity I had not seen except in hotels. Next to it a copper sink was housed in a white marble countertop. I couldn't believe I had the fortune to live here.

"Bella?"

I turned, in the middle of pulling out yet another hairpin, and blushed at the expression on Edward's face. In his eyes was a sort of intensity I hadn't seen since he had tried to kiss me in the library.

"I… brought up champagne," he said softly, holding up a wine pail. He swallowed, his gaze traveling the length of my unpinned hair. I flushed darker and turned to the too-ornate gilt-framed mirror.

"Thank you… I'll be out in a moment. I was going to change… I feel like a mess," I said, my voice a nervous trill. Edward stepped into the washroom, leaving the champagne by the door. His hand caught mine in the process of pulling out my last pin, his other arm wrapping around my waist. He pressed me to his chest and brushed my hair away from my throat with his fingertips.

"I wish I could keep you here, Bella, locked away in our home. I feel like the whole of Chicago is waiting for me to disappoint you… to drive you away from me. I want to make you happy, Bella…" he whispered to me, his warm lips brushing my ear, then trailing down the length of my neck. He paused, helping me out of my pearl necklace. He laid it by the sink, his fingertips sliding over my shoulders.

He moved his right hand over my right arm, his left hand sliding through my curls and stopping at the base of my throat. I felt him unfasten the first pearl button. Then the next… After four, the lacy, capped section of my sleeve fell from my shoulder, revealing the slip beneath. Edward loosened the ribbon drawstring tie of the slip, sliding it from my shoulder as well. His lips continued their trail down my throat, over my shoulder.

I turned in his arms, looking up at him, the butterflies in my stomach flown away, my skin burning where his lips graced it. I stood on tiptoe, wrapping my arms around his neck, burying my fingers in his bronze hair. Edward bent and pulled me into his arms, carrying me out of the bathroom.

I woke in the morning to sunlight streaming in through the French doors. The gauzy curtains swayed slightly in the morning breeze. The warmth kissed my exposed skin, perfect ivory in the light.

"Good morning, Mrs. Masen."

The roughness of Edward's normally velvet voice reignited the burning in the pit in my stomach. I smiled up at him and Edward smiled back at me. He ran his fingertips over my forehead, smoothing a hair away from it before planting a kiss there.

He picked his pocket watch from the nightstand and sighed as I jutted out my lower lip.

"Must you go to work this morning?" It sounded like a whine. I found that I didn't care a bit.

"It's Thursday, Bella. As adorable as your pouting is you can't confine me to the bedroom when there's work to be done."

I leaned on my elbows while he rose and went to the washroom, running the water. I frowned, rising slowly. It felt as if my joints had all melted into something softer. Like sponge. My steps steadied the further I went from the bed, and I tried my best to not think about my nakedness. By the time I made it to the doorway Edward had begun shaving, a towel soaking in the sink.

He paused, half of his face still covered in lather. His eyes slid from my face to my toes once, twice, then glanced at his pocket watch.

I ran my fingers through my tangled hair and smirked at him.

Edward put his razor down, rung out the towel, wiped his face, and we began where we left off.

In the end, Mr. Masen wasn't too upset that Edward missed work. Sometime past noon, Edward and I finally left the room, fully clothed, and made lunch together. Edward wouldn't let me cook alone, no matter how desperately I tried to make him sit at the table. As soon as I'd thought I'd distracted him with a newspaper or with getting the milk, he was back at my side, laying soft kisses on my cheek and taking pans out of my hands. But somehow or another, I finally laid a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast in front of Edward. And it felt wonderful.

"Do you want to know a secret, Mrs. Masen?" Edward asked. His eyes glinted and I felt myself fall in love again.

"What secret, Mr. Masen?"

"My mother can't cook."

My fork clattered to the plate and I began choking. Edward was immediately at my side, rubbing my back. He offered me water and I refused, it, laughing through my coughing and sputtering.

"Your mother is perfect. What do you mean she can't cook?" I stopped giggling, imagining Elizabeth's face if she knew that I laughed.

"She refused to learn. She's excellent at needlepoint, and a better pianist than I am, but she hates cooking. We've always had a cook, even before Father amassed the modest amount of wealth you see today."

"Modest? You, Sir, are modest. The depth of your bank vault, however, is anything but."

Edward smiled at me and sighed slightly. "Actually… Bella, now that you're my wife I haven't the slightest guilt in telling you. The times we live in are... deceptive. My family – and understand, it is not the only one – hides behind a façade of wealth. We live in a grand house. Mother always has the newest fashion on her person or in her closet. We have credit with all the shops in town, the boutiques, the lenders – but that's all it is, Bella. Credit."

I frowned, nibbling toast as Edward ran a hand through his hair.

"If the collectors decided that they needed that money back, they would find that Mr. Edward Anthony Masen, Sr. did not have the money to pay them back. This home, for example, was bought and furnished on credit."

I suddenly felt very afraid. The home that I thought was ours was, in fact, the property of nameless, faceless persons. Edward caught my hands in his and looked into my eyes, a fierce conviction in his face.

"Bella, I promise you that you and I will not live like that. As soon as I am able, we will pay off this place, and from then on we will live on what we have. I love my parents very much, as I'm sure you love them, but they have made mistakes that I do not want there to be any misconception about. You must help me in this. I do not want the shirt on my back to belong to anyone else but you and I."

I nodded and stood, kissing his cheek. It was then that the doorbell rang. I hastily put the dishes in the sink and took off my apron, going to the door. Mr. Masen smiled and swept into a theatrical bow, kissing my hand.

"Good morning, Bella, darling. Is my ne'er-do-well son about?"

I stepped aside to let him in and was delighted to find Kate coming in behind him. She patted my cheek and I went to help her bring the rest of my things inside.

"Edward! Son! How are you this fine morning?"

He said it in a way that made me blush. Edward coughed and gave him a look of annoyance.

"Anyway, I wanted to let you know you weren't missed this morning at the office. We closed the Wagner case. Mr. Jonas will be in prison for a long, long time."

"Excellent! And about that issue yesterday…"

I paused by the stairs to listen as Kate went ahead upstairs.

"I understand completely, Edward. Men must choose their way of life. You're made of far stronger stuff than I am, Son. I couldn't tell your mother the truth when she's so comfortable… hopefully, we'll both be long gone by the time it matters. You're a better man to remove your logic from emotion."

I sighed and followed Kate upstairs.

Anthony left to return to work after I made him a sandwich. He gave me a kiss on the hand and Edward a pat on the shoulder. And then we spoke to Kate. We explained the state of our affairs and that any purchases would go through Edward. She wasn't happy, but she agreed to be cooperative and discreet.

The day was spent emptying the house of all things unnecessary. The coffee table in the parlor, the end tables and lamps, everything that we didn't need completely, were loaded into a rented Ford and taken back to their stores. Edward used the house phone to get in contact with all the stores that had furnished the beautiful home. He took over the credit while I stood by him, holding his hand.

The only thing I protested was when he suggested getting rid of the piano Elizabeth had had delivered to the house a week before our wedding.

"Bella, I won't feel any pain if we get rid of it! Music was an outlet for me, but now that I have you I hardly need it! Besides, it'll reduce our debt by another sixty dollars. Really, Bella, It's not necessary."

"But Edward…"

"Darling, if you miss music I'll sing to you. But I will not have us live in poverty when the creditors come collecting."

And with that our first argument ended with my feeling selfish. That evening, Kate (with Edward's help) prepared Spaghetti.

We all – Kate included – ate together while we listened to Edward's phonograph. After dinner, Kate and I cleared up while Edward laid out his suit for tomorrow. I showed Kate her room and she pulled me into a firm hug.

"Well. Your beau may be poor, but at least he treats you right. And he doesn't seem the sort to let you stay poor long, Miss Bella. Now, tell Katie about your night." Kate's eyes twinkled as she sat me down. I blushed scarlet and dropped my voice to a whisper.

"It was… easier, than I expected. And much more fun."

She nodded knowingly.

"The church is good for a great many things, Miss Bella, but it tries to make you feel guilty for too much, at times," said Kate with a wink. I thought about that for a moment, frowning.

"Kate… what happened to your husband?"

"Same thing that happened to your mother, may she rest in peace, Miss Bella. He became ill. During the voyage from Dublin, he lost his appetite. Illness ran rampant in those ships – but he seemed to be recovering when we landed. But once we made port at Ellis Island, they quarantined Daniel, and the next time I saw him was in a pine box."

I gave Kate a silent hug, offering her my kerchief. She dabbed her eyes and smiled at me gratefully.

"Now, love, go to your 'usband. 'Tis bad practice to be in the bedroom after he's already closed the door."

I giggled and did as she said, going upstairs as quickly as my feet could carry me. Of course, my hastiness warred with my lack of coordination and the latter won. On the last step I tumbled forward and braced myself for the inevitable impact.

"Madam, I believe you should never leave my arms so that you should never fall again."

Edward pulled me to my feet gently and I marveled at the fact that I had managed to remain unmarked for the last few months just because I had found this angel.

"Mmm. In that case I shan't."

Edward smiled and hooked his right arm beneath my legs, carrying me the rest of the way to the bedroom. He sat me on the bed gently and kissed my lips sweetly.

"Shall I draw you a bath, my love?" I blushed and wrapped my arms around his neck, not wanting to let him go.

"Only if you join me, Edward," I said in a soft whisper. I knew my blush must have rivaled that of a tomato.

Edward's eyes twinkled as he picked me up again and carried me to the washroom. He turned on the hot water and poured some scented bath oil in, all the while cradling me in his lap as he perched on the tub's edge.

"Please, allow me," he said softly, his fingers trailing down my throat, over my back, unfastening the buttons. I undid his tie and attacked the buttons of his shirt. He had my dress undone by the time I had finished his shirt. I stood and let it slide to my feet. Edward looked at me in the dim lamplight for two heartbeats before assaulting my clothes again.

Edward's hands were insistent against my skin, pulling me tight against him. I begged him to hold me tighter and was pleased when he obliged. But as I came closer to the precipice, as we both got closer to reaching ecstasy, I pushed him away.

Edward growled, the feral sound getting caught somewhere inside and weakening my resolve.

"Edward… I think… we shouldn't," I said between gasps. He had begun kissing my throat again.

"Why, lover? Don't you enjoy this?" his velvet voice was rough with passion. I tried desperately to form my thoughts into a coherent sentence.

"If… if we have a baby it will take us even longer…"

"I'll get a second job. To be a father would give me no greater joy."

"Edward… I won't see you work yourself to death..!" I managed, shoving his chest hard. Edward looked down at me, his eyes less glazed, and he kissed my cheek.

"You are too good for me, Bella," he sighed. He pulled away from me and kissed my lips gently. He took a moment to catch his breath before picking me up and setting me in the tub gently. He slid in behind me, sponge and soap in hand.

"I'm sorry…" I whispered as I leaned back against him.

Edward bristled and I felt his arms wrap around me, his nose buried in my hair.

"Bella you must never apologize for telling me what you want." He brought my left hand to his lips, kissing my ring. "This is my promise to please you forever. Don't you ever apologize for giving me an opportunity to do so."

"…I love you." I sat there in his arms for a few more moments while he ran the sponge over my arms. Pressed against his naked chest, the sensation was maddening. "How… how is it that you have no siblings? Your parents relationship seems rather… healthy," I said with a blush.

Edward was silent. I looked back at him and saw that his face was pensive.

"I'll have to ask about that. Mother wasn't infertile. Obviously I'm here. And I don't think she suffered any miscarriages. She's still young enough to bear children… I'll ask Father tomorrow."

"Why do you ask, Bella? I have no issue with waiting until a more… opportune… time." Edward started pulling the pins from my hair, making it tumble in curls around my face. Each brush of his fingertips against my skin felt like torture.

"I… don't know if I'll be able to survive sharing your bed without-"

He had finished unpinning my curls and had moved on to kissing the place where my throat and shoulder met.

"God, you're driving me insane, Edward!" I cried, pushing away from him with a splash. I sulked on the other end of the tub, my knees curled to my chest and my cheek resting on my arms. I probably looked like a child. I didn't care.

"I see… in that case…"

Edward pulled me back against his chest, trapping my wrists in one of his hands while his lips returned to my neck. I struggled, glaring back at him.

"Edward, please, stop..!"

"Shh. Bella, there are other ways for me to please you, now please, allow me to ease the pain you feel…" he whispered. His other hand trailed the length of my arm, slid to my hip, and lower…

By the time we made it to bed it was well past midnight. I cuddled into his chest and let him stroke my drying hair. He let me use his left arm as a pillow while I inhaled his sweet scent.

"Do you want children, Bella? We don't have to have any at all if you don't want to. Mother will be disappointed of course, but she'll get over it as long as we're both happy."

I contemplated the idea of _children_ with a frown.

"Your cousins were darling… And Angela looks so happy… I just don't know what kind of mother I would be. I'm not sure I could handle such a responsibility. And I don't really see a purpose in having a child…"

"You wouldn't want someone with your eyes and my hair and your lips to call you 'mommy'?" he asked with a grin. I grunted and cuddled closer to him.

"If he had your eyes and hair and lips and nose in miniature then of course I would. But only if he was mostly you."

"I do admit I may become jealous of whatever child we have for sealing your attention away from me."

"Mmmm…" I mumbled against his chest, feeling the weight of sleep settle over me. Edward started humming to me. A tune I had never heard before.

It took moments for me to fall asleep in his arms, his perfect voice in my ear, the image of a beautiful little child with Edward's face impressed across my closed eyelids.

….

A/N: Yaaaay~ This is what I imagined as Edward's and Bella's intimate beginnings had they both been human. Also, about the Masen's being deep in debt. This era in American history is often referred to the Golden Age, because people were generally very comfortable, had a lot of wealth (or so it appeared). However, the great depression showed that the comfort everyone had enjoyed had been based on credit and an unsupported corporate world – much as it is today. Thus, his family's situation.

Anyway, hope you had fun. More to come asap. I'm in the process of figuring out how I want to play out their one year of life together. Keep reading! I promise there will be a happy ending. And more delicate fluff.

Please review. Comments and kudos keep my muse happy.


	7. Routine

Disclaimer: I have never owned and never will own anything mentioned in SM's Twilight saga. She is a God. I am a poor student. I never have and never will profit from this. Se la vie.

Chapter Seven: Routine

Edward woke me with kisses. I hoped that this would be the entirety of my life. Happy mornings, slow afternoons, and delightful evenings.

I made him breakfast and helped him pack his briefcase, then kissed him goodbye before he left for work. Kate and I went to the grocer to buy things for dinner. We kept things simple. It wouldn't be a culinary masterpiece but it would keep us fed. I returned the dresses I could and sold the ones I couldn't while in town while Kate scowled and cursed the state of the world.

"War… poverty hidden behind gussied up faces and that devilish music… Things are hard for people as it is! Is there no mercy out there for a soul?"

"Kate, you can't really be upset with heaven over this. It's not Edward's fault. It's not God's. It's people's in general. And I don't need any of this… I'd rather not have a wardrobe stuffed to the brim."

"Well. I think 'tis poor form of Missus Elizabeth to not be completely honest about all this business."

"I don't thinks he knew, Kate… And it wouldn't have deterred me."

Ever. Never. Edward was perfect… I loved him for being Edward, not because he appeared to be rich. Charlie didn't care either, so long as I was happy.

The streets of Chicago were lined with people, busily shopping, working, throwing out refuse. The heat made stench nearly unbearable near the alleyways. But the constantly blowing wind at least kept our airways reasonably clear.

It was like Edward said – even as the women in silks and crêpe de chine sauntered up and down the walks, or drove down the street in elegant touring cars, filth festered just behind the façade. Little boys in worn shoes with dirty faces shouted to sell papers. Poor children, doing anything to win a nickel. Even though industry boomed with war productions, even though the media proclaimed the country's greatness, Edward was right. My family had witnessed many a hardship in the beginning of the year. Angela's parents had to sell half of their chickens to keep their farm.

In the city, the businessmen all panicked when the Dow Jones dropped. It had been the first significant pitfall in ten years. The war, which we had abstained from in the beginning, was suddenly an escape. As we manufactured guns, the United States' finances improved.

But the people still felt the depression that lurked just under the surface. The Golden Age was a farce designed to fool those who didn't want to see.

I brooded all the way home and had already stored the foodstuffs in the cellar and pantry when I saw brown paper package on the small kitchen table.

"Kate?" I called upstairs as I grabbed my parasol and gloves. I put Edward's lunch into my shopping basket, adding an apple and a bit of fresh bread. "I'm walking to the station. Edward forgot his lunch!"

Kate called down something I took as assent before I closed the front door behind me.

The courthouse was an impressive, austere sort of building. It was imposing beside the plain brick buildings on either side. The one to the left housed the Masen-Stanley firm. Mr. Stanley had been Mr. Masen's business partner from 1901 until 19016, contributing funds to the firm until just recently.

The office workers nodded at me and smiled as I passed. I stopped at the floor secretary's desk and took off my hat, holding it in my hand, my parasol hanging on my wrist.

"Would you please direct me to my husband's office, please?" I said with the best smile I could manage. My cheeks flushed slightly when I said it. I loved that he was mine. The young man behind the desk nodded and smiled politely.

"This way, ma'am. He's actually in a meeting with Mr. Masen, Sr. and Mrs. Newton but you're welcome to wait for him." I thanked the boy and followed him to Edward's office. On the desk was a clipping from the newspaper featuring our wedding. I was beaming and clinging to his arm. He was perfection in his light suit.

A framed photo of he and I stood on the desk. We were standing together, smiling at the camera, surrounded by friends and family. From the formal photo sitting at the reception, I realized.

I jumped slightly as the door opened and my love walked through. I smiled at first, but Edward's expression made it falter and fail. His eyes were troubled, his lips drawn into a scowl.

"I… You forgot your lunch, so I thought I'd come and deliver it and eat with you if you have time."

Edward's expression didn't change. He just pulled me into an embrace. I felt the tension in his body, that he needed me for support rather than comfort at this moment. I looped my arms around his waist and kissed his neck, unable to reach anything else from the position.

"What's wrong, Edward?"

"Nothing to worry you, sweetheart. Just work… Of course I have time. Thank you, Bella."

He sat in the seat beside me as I set out his lunch and mine. He bit into his sandwich appreciatively and I frowned as I nibbled my bread and cheese.

"I don't feed you enough," I said with a little disappointment. "You're far too hungry."

"Nonsense. I'm quite fat enough and I only eat so quickly because it's so incredibly delicious, Bella."

We ate in silence for a while. When I finished I massaged his shoulders while I told him about my day. Time passed at a leisurely pace and Edward started paperwork before he had eaten the entirety of his lunch. He was finishing the apple when I asked about the last night's dilemma.

"Did you talk to your father?" I felt my cheeks flush.

Edward's lips curled into a smirk and the blush darkened.

"Of course. And we have a solution. Don't worry. You'll have your fun this evening."

I couldn't help but giggle as he brushed his lips across my ear.

"Edward?"

I turned to the small voice coming from the door. The woman standing there had perfect brown curls, a haughty look, and a dress that must have been from a French line somewhere.

"Eddie, I'm sorry to disturb you and your… wife, but could you please help me? I don't want to walk home alone, considering… you know."

Edward's eyes hardened slightly but he sighed and kissed my cheek.

"Of course, Mrs. Newton."

I thought I heard an emphasis on the "Mrs."

"Have you met my wife? Bella, this is Jessica Newton. Mr. Newton's wife."

"Soon to be his ex-wife," she said with a cheerful smile. Her eyes appraised me and her lips curled into a sneer. "Being married is a misfortune, I must admit." She gave Edward a significant look that he politely ignored. I decided then that I no longer felt very sorry for Mrs. Newton.

"I'll meet you at home, Bella," said Edward with a sigh.

I nodded to him and gave his fingers a light squeeze. I didn't like it. But I couldn't make him be rude to a client. So I quietly let the other woman walk out with her arm wrapped possessively where mine usually was. Jessica Newton and her smug little smile. Well, she might be an awful flirt but she still didn't deserve her husband. I looked out the window and frowned. The weather had become stormy in the two hours I had been there.

Outside, the wind whipped ferociously around me and cut through my thin summer jacket. I constantly stopped to hold down my skirt, though I knew it was probably too long to expose anything besides my bestockinged calves.

Rain began to fall about four blocks from our home on Elm Street. My cotton parasol soon became a hindrance. The rain seeped through it, and the wind buffeted it so that my progress slowed. I closed it with some effort before continuing on up State Street. I soon found myself feeling for brick walk rather than seeing it.

I hoped Edward had had the sense to call a car for Mrs. Newton and then for himself.

I wished I had the sense to bring a little pocket money with me. Then I could hail a cab, too.

I kept walking on, hoping the sudden storm would dissipate quickly. My thoughts drifted to my wedding. I was fortunate to have found Edward. I doubted whether I could have been happy with anyone else. I felt complete with him. Loved. Accepted. Respected – something I often missed among others.

Kate was furious with me when I walked in the door.

"Missus! You are sure to catch your death walking 'round in the rain with not so much as a coat! Foolish girl – married and in her own home and still ha'nt got the sense she should have been born with!" she spewed while peeling my wet clothes off of me. She brought me a robe and led me to the bathroom, forcing me into the tub.

"Warm yourself. I've already started dinner."

I sat obediently, thanking her for her trouble while the warm water soothed away my gooseflesh and worries. Edward would be coming home to me, not Jessica Newton.

"Bella, darling?"

Edward's angelic voice woke me from my heat-induced sleep. I smiled up at him and realized the water was luke-warm. I must have been here for a while now. He stroked my cheek before lifting me out of the bath, getting his shirtsleeves wet.

"You shouldn't…"

"I'm already soaked through and through. You were planning on joining me for dinner, weren't you?"

"How long was I asleep?" I asked, still drowsy as he carried me to my vanity.

"I just got home a moment ago. Kate asked me to make sure you haven't drowned. I do wish you wouldn't sleep in the bath, Bella." His perfect voice was lightly chiding. I couldn't find it in me to be remorseful. I was in his arms and he was home.

"Anything you want, Edward."

He chuckled and toweled my hair before going to change out of his wet things. He brought me a dress and underclothes after he had slipped into khaki trousers and a fresh shirt. If I had not seen my love undressed, I would have sworn that Edward could never be more glorious.

Hand-in-hand we descended the stairs to the dining room. Kate served cabbage and bean soup with bread and cheese. I told Edward apologetically that we decided to cut down our food budget until we were squared away financially. He touched his fingers to my face with both agony and admiration in his eyes.

"Thank you, Bella… I wish… I wish I could give you more – I promise I will, once we're out of everyone's pockets!"

And the fire in his eyes convinced me that he would. But as far as I was concerned, I could eat cardboard and be happy so long as he was with me.

"I love you. Don't worry. I hardly taste my food when I dine with you. You effectively distract me from everything."

His answering smile melted my heart.

After dinner we went upstairs together. Edward showered and I sat beside the balcony, reading by the light of a kerosene lamp.

Edward sang from the bathroom, and the cheerful sound of it kept me from absorbing the words. I gave up quickly, deciding that I should go ahead and dress for bed.

I hung up my dress and folded my drawers. The nightgown I slipped on was soft cotton, lacy at the collar and untied easily in the front. Edward had promised me a fulfilling evening.

The sound of running water cut off in the bathroom and Edward walked into the bedroom in nothing more than a towel. He smiled devilishly at me before climbing into bed. It wasn't long before passion won over conscious thought, and Edward's touch kept me in our personal nirvana until neither of us could withstand the pull of sleep any longer.

In the months that followed, our days and nights followed the same routine. Anthony Masen's secret seemed to work – I remained childless, and Edward and I enjoyed our private lives together without worrying about further expense.

While the war raged on outside of our paradise, our relationship grew in strength and intensity. I brought him lunch every day and ate it with him. He shared his fears and thoughts with me, even when it had to do with work. I didn't understand all the time, but I tried my best to give my insight. He worked from seven every morning till five at the office from June until November. I took a job as a seamstress from home. I wasn't amazing at it, but I could manage well enough with a Singer and Kate's help. But as December came, Edward became frenzied and impatient.

Suddenly, he took freelance assignments. He left our bed at dawn and barely waited for breakfast before going to work. And work he did until well past sunset. I begged him, in vain, to think a little more about his health – he lost weight, he slept little… And it worried me to death.

But despite my protests, despite breaking down into tears once, he would not listen. Would not consider for a moment that no one wished this madness. It was not our first argument, but it was the most heated.

"Edward, I don't understand what you're trying to accomplish by working yourself to death!" I cried. Tears had been streaming down my cheeks for the last ten minutes already. "Day in and day out – hardly taking a moment to breathe, and now you hardly sleep four hours before doing it all over again! You're going to kill yourself!" My voice cracked and broke. I couldn't stand it. I couldn't bear it! He looked back at me with frenzied eyes.

Circles were etched into his skin beneath them and I hoped that he would live long enough for them to disappear. He coughed into his kerchief paced closer to the fireplace. His cheeks, once boyish and soft, had become disturbingly angular, almost hollowed. He was sickly pale, and his hands shook slightly.

"Bella, you can't possibly expect me to… Don't you understand? This is all for you! I won't have my wife living like a pauper when I can provide more for her! I won't stand for you selling your things so I can have a little more sleep. I can't stand watching you suffer because of my father's foolish mistakes – My mistakes for allowing him to draw me into this mess!" He stormed across the room and fell at my feet, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his head in my lap.

"I can't do it, Bella… You mean too much to me. I promise… I promised you I would take care of this mess and I will. And soon. So we can have a family. So we can live without burden or fear…" He picked up my hands, not as soft as they once were from the sewing, constantly pricking myself, the threading and working the machine making my fingertips callused. "So you don't have to do anything more trying than kiss me when I return to you at the end of the day. I can't allow it Bella. Not for long."

He hugged me close to him and I clung to him. It had been a long while since we had made love, but that night he held me closer than he had since our wedding night.

In the morning I woke before he did, made his coffee, and called Anthony from our phone.

"Operator? Edward A. Masen, Sr., please. On Astor Street."

"Yes, ma'am. One moment please." The line disconnected with a click and I hung up the receiver while I waited. I thought idly that perhaps that would be a better job. I could work as a telephone operator and Edward wouldn't have to watch me do it. I could arrange hours when he was working, as well. The phone rang and I picked up quickly.

"Hello? Anthony Masen speaking."

"Anthony? It's Bella… I'm sorry to call you so early," I said softly. I didn't want to wake Kate or Edward.

"That's quite alright darling. What's the mater, dear? Why have you called?"

"It's Edward… I think he's overworking himself. He hasn't had a full night's rest in weeks and he's making himself ill… Could he take the week off please? Christmas is around the corner and I think he'd benefit from some vacation. I'm frightened for him, Father."

I used the word knowing it would endear me to him. Anthony seemed to consider it for a moment.

"Of course, dear. I haven't seen much of the boy – I wouldn't have known! He's done so well to have you as a wife. Looking after his health – of course! Of course he can have the week off. I'll have Wesley finish up his current cases in his absence. Look after him, dear girl. Good day."

I sighed in relief and went back upstairs, turning off the little brass Big Ben alarm clock I had bought for him in August.

He rolled over onto his side and I laid a soft kiss on his temple before dressing and going downstairs to start breakfast. I had a little bacon left in the icebox, so I fried that once I had started the stove and put the biscuits in the oven. Eggs were last. I put everything on a tray and carried it upstairs carefully, hoping silently that I would not have an attack of clumsiness.

By some miracle I managed to make it to our bedroom door. I was glad I thought to leave it open. I carefully treaded across the room and set Edward's breakfast on his bedside table. Silently, I leaned over him and kissed his lips lightly, smoothing his hair out of his face. He shivered. It was freezing cold in the mornings. The fire had died down to almost nothing.

"Edward, darling."

He grunted but didn't wake.

"Wake up, darling. Breakfast time."

Edward sat up suddenly and groaned, rubbing his forehead.

"What…time is it?"

"Don't worry about that. You have the week off, remember? Christmas is just around the corner." I hoped he was too tired to see through my lie about the week. He had been so busy he just might not catch on just yet.

"Is it? Did you make breakfast for me already?" he asked, his eyes widening at the spread of food. I smiled and positioned it on his lap, buttering a biscuit for him and smearing jam on it.

"Yes. I thought you could use breakfast in bed for once. You've been working yourself crazy."

"Thank you, love," he said with a genuine smile. I hadn't seen it in too long. I kissed his nose before sliding into bed on the other side.

"So."

Edward looked at me with a little smirk. I felt myself blush.

"What do you want to do on our week off?"

"Hmmm… lots of things. We can take walks together. Like we did when you were courting me." He smiled and kissed my cheek. "We can stay in bed all day, if you like…" I couldn't help but giggle. "Or we could just read and play and do whatever we feel like at the moment."

By the look in Edward's eyes, he seemed to like the second idea the most.

The week passed uneventfully. We loved each other and relaxed together. I didn't do any sewing. He didn't look in his briefcase even once. Kate took the time to go to New York to visit her nephews and nieces. We spent Christmas with Charlie, Elizabeth, and Anthony at the Masen house.

Edward had thought ahead and bought Charlie a brand new fishing rod, with a neat little tackle box and straw hat. For Elizabeth we bought a phonograph second-hand and polished it until it looked new. Edward and I gave her two different records, one of the Austrian Boy's Choir and another of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony.

Edward's gift to me was a heart in the shape of a diamond. It was a bauble passed down from his grandmother. I wore it on a simple white gold chain Renée had given me years ago.

My gift to Edward wasn't as extravagant, but I worked hard for it. He had never let me use my wages from mending clothes to pay for anything other than groceries, so I had saved and scrimped, and finally I had earned enough to buy an upright, beat-up piano. It looked in bad need of help, but it was tuned and it played beautifully. And I was sure with a little help it could look just lovely. Edward thought it was marvelous, of course. I had the piano delivered that morning to our home, and he announced to the family what I had done for him.

Christmas dinner was an extravagant affair. Toasts and laughter resonated across the table. Even Charlie joined in on the holiday cheer. And when the ham, potatoes, string beans, casseroles, and pies were mostly eaten, Edward sat at the piano and we sang into the night. We sung carols at the tops of our voices, swinging eggnogs and laughing.

It was a long time before anyone felt tired, but eventually, Charlie slumped into an armchair and did not stir again. Anthony yawned and Elizabeth did the same, though more delicately. My head felt heavy against Edward's shoulder. Edward finally had to help me stand and get into my coat and muff. We said our goodbyes and I kissed Elizabeth on the cheeks before we carefully made our way down the icy steps and onto the walk. The last thing I remembered was Edward flagging a cab to go back home.

Throughout the following week we lazed about the house, not doing much, sitting in front of the fire and reading. He played piano and sang to me. Our nights were spent in each other's arms. Our mornings were slow and relaxed.

January 1, 1918, fell on a Tuesday. We spent the last night of December back at the Masen house, drinking champagne and setting off firecrackers and small fireworks. At midnight, the bells in town square rang, and we walked home, slightly tipsy, and slid into bed.

Later that morning, Edward rose from bed at five-thirty and our routine picked up where it left off. But along with the New Year came a couple of changes. Edward stopped working so hard after seeing that I was happier when he had time to unwind and enjoy life with me.

It amazed me that we had been married for eight months already. And every day of it had been blissful. The only thing that marred my blissful existence was that Kate, my best friend since my birth, had yet to send a telegram or letter from her visit to New York.

A/N: Sorry if some of you found this chapter boring. I needed it to organize my thoughts, set the time, etc… as we approach the climax of Edward and Bella's human life. I'll be posting more slowly as term gets closer, but I shall be posting. Happy reading. I promise to deliver a tear-jerking, heartwarming experience to you all.

Please review.

-Forensica X


	8. Illness

A/N: I have never owned and never will own anything mentioned in SM's Twilight saga. She is a God. I am a poor student. Enjoy.

Chapter Eight: Illness

I woke from a nightmare January 9, 1918, to find that the fire had gone out. Moving slowly so as not to wake Edward, I alighted from the bed and tiptoed to the ornate fireplace. It took a few moments to get it going, but once it was, the stench of the burning wood overwhelmed me. There must have been a bit of rubber or something in the ashes to cause the smell, but whatever it was sent me fleeing to the bathroom.

I hunched over the porcelain toilet and shook violently with the sickness that overtook me. Before my stomach emptied completely, I felt warm hands pull my long curls out of the way, felt lips at the back of my neck. I tried in vain to wave him away but Edward wouldn't budge. He helped me wash my face after I rinsed my mouth. Though it still tasted a little like bile the urge to vomit had vanished.

"Are you alright, Bella?"

"I think so… I just smelled something bad when I rekindled the fire... it made me feel so nauseous. I feel fine, actually." How bizarre.

"You're sure?" he asked, his brow furrowed with worry.

"Positive."

He carried me to bed against my protests and before long I was curled into his chest and sleeping again.

When I woke, light was streaming through the frosted French doors and had bathed the room in wintery luminescence. I groaned softly, feeling beside me for Edward. Instead, my fingers found a stiff piece of folded paper. Edward's elegant script was written neatly in the center.

_Mrs. Masen,_

_It is my hope that you have rested well and will not miss me when you wake. I'll be home in time for dinner. I took lunch with me, so stay in bed and rest. I've called New York to check on Kate. Mother will be by to see that you're well. Please feel better._

_-Your husband_

I sighed and looked at the clock on his bedside table. Past noon. Nearly one. I stood carefully and dressed slowly, not wanting the nausea to come back. But as I bent to retrieve a fresh pair of stockings from a drawer, it hit me so hard that I just barely made it to the washroom.

I coughed and sputtered when it was over, leaning weakly over the porcelain bowel with my forehead resting on my arm.

"Bella?"

I barely managed to groan in response to the voice downstairs. I heard shoes on the stairwell and had just rinsed my mouth out when Elizabeth knocked on the washroom's door.

"Bella, dear? Are you all right? Eddie told me you were ill this morning…" Her nose wrinkled delicately as the smell of it hit her.

"Not just this morning, I'm afraid…" I washed my face, still feeling weak, and pulled the flush over the toilet.

Elizabeth pursed her lips and caught my hands before I could go past her into the bedroom. She held a hand to my forehead and looked me over with her piercing emerald eyes.

"Bella. This is very important. Have you missed any monthlies?"

"My… I… Oh… No..! I haven't. But I have had different… experiences these last three months than I usually have." In that I had been irregular. In that last month it hadn't come at all.

My hands flew to my abdomen and I shook my head.

"It can't be. I still… until last month I still… And Edward…" I blushed at Edward's precautionary measures. "There just isn't any way."

"Well, dear, I think we should visit the doctor anyway. Just to be safe. And to get something to settle your stomach, at least."

I dressed quickly, pulling on thick stockings, a wool suit, and trench coat. I shoved my gloved hands into a muff before following Kate out the door. The wind was bitingly cold, the snow and ice beneath our feet treacherous. We only went as far as the corner before hailing a taxi.

I tried not to think about my mysterious illness as the cab made skidding turns through the city. There were two hospitals in town: Mercy, and Chicago General. Chicago General had been reserved for disease outbreak and specific illness that may (or may not) require quarantine. To those with an education, it was a festering cesspool more likely to make a person ill than well. It was also the middle and upper class's cubbyhole for the less fortunate. Renée, in the later stages of her illness (after I had already mended), spent quite some time there.

There was a checkpoint set up outside of Mercy hospital. Two nurses in cloth masks stopped us and asked us a series of questions before letting the cabbie drive up to the building. Elizabeth helped me out and we went inside. This hospital was cleaner than Chicago General. At the same time, a thrill of fear ran through me at the thought of being there for any length of time. I hated needles. I fainted at the sight or scent of blood. The smell of iodine made my stomach churn.

We were ushered into a plain, windowless office. A small cot was against the far wall. The other wall was covered completely with anatomical drawings and bookshelves. Several lamps and one ceiling light made the room glow a yellowish hue.

I tried to breathe slowly, afraid of bringing on another spell of nausea. After ten minutes, Elizabeth grew impatient.

"I'll be right back, darling. I want to make sure someone's actually coming…"

"Thank you."

But she was gone before she heard my slightly delayed response.

I sat and stared at the ceiling, watching the light flicker. The wind must have been shaking the power lines.

"Isabella Masen?" a honeyed voice said from the doorway. The two-word question sounded like music. I turned and stood, staring at the angelic figure in the doorway.

The man framed in the doorway seemed carved from marble. His skin was pure, flawless alabaster. He had honey-colored hair and eyes, and the kind set of his eyes and lips made me trust him implicitly. He was almost more beautiful than Edward. Almost.

"Mrs. Masen?" he asked again, extending his hand. I smiled and blushed, taking it. His skin felt hard and cold as ice. "I'm Doctor Carlisle Cullen. The nurse in reception said you have had an upset stomach today?"

He offered me the seat I had just vacated as he made his way around his desk.

"I think it's a little more than that. I woke up before daybreak and was ill… then again around noon. My… My mother-in-law seems to think I may be… with child…" I felt myself growing increasingly red. "-But that can't be right! I… I've still had my monthlies except for this past month." I could not to look him in the eye.

"Have your last cycles differed from previous ones?" he asked delicately, taking notes on a chart.

"Yes… Well. They've been much shorter… and they were very late."

The doctor scratched a couple more notes down and took my pulse, listened to my heartbeat.

"And this morning and this afternoon you experienced severe nausea and vomiting? How did you feel afterward? And did anything trigger it?" he asked, his clinical approach making me less embarrassed.

"This morning I lit the fire and it smelled as if rubber was burning in it… Then when I woke again I tried to bend over my dresser drawer and that sent me to the washroom…"

"I see. And after?"

"I felt a little weak. But not…ill."

"Have you noticed anything else?"

"I don't like some of the things I used to… I've been having nightmares and Ed- My husband says I haven't been talking like I normally do…"

"Mrs. Masen…" Carlisle smiled at me. "I don't think you're sick."

"I don't think so, either. I feel normal right now. Maybe food poisoning..?"

"No, you misunderstand," he chuckled a little and patted my hand. His fingers were still frozen. "I think your mother-in-law is correct. I think you're pregnant, Mrs. Masen."

I stared at him in utter shock.

"It's not uncommon for bleeding to occur during the first couple months of pregnancy. I can refer you to a private doctor and a midwife if you like."

"I'm… pregnant?"

"It's quite possible. Actually, it's most probable. You don't seem to be running a fever. Your pulse is normal. Your breathing sounds fine. Everything you described is typical of pregnancy. Congratulations, Mrs. Masen."

He smiled at me and handed me a slip of paper, a two names and numbers written in elegant script. Doctor Cullen talked some more, none of it making it past my ears. My brain was caught on the idea of being pregnant.

Edward's baby was growing inside me? I felt an incredulous smile on my lips. I was going to be the mother of his child. The image of a perfect baby – pink cheeks, emerald eyes, long lashes, bronze curls – took root in my mind. The little smile became a full-fledged grin. I would have the most beautiful child in the world. Edward in miniature. Suddenly, I felt my heart swell to twice its size. I couldn't help but love the phantom child of my dreams – the very real one now growing in my womb. I jumped slightly as Carlisle patted my hand again.

"…I'm afraid I can't help you through your pregnancy… This hospital is going to be dedicated to influenza quarantine. It's already started spreading because of the war and because of other conditions. But I'm expecting Chicago to suffer as much as New York already is. Please, try to avoid this place from now on, if you can. Good day, Mrs. Masen."

"Thank you, Doctor," I said, still dazed. He helped me up and held the door for me. I didn't remember Elizabeth until I saw her in the lobby. Her voice was raised and her face flushed scarlet in aggravation.

"My daughter is back there and I demand that you allow me to pass! If not, I demand to see your supervisors! You people led me into an office only twenty minutes ago!"

"Ma'am, the chief physician here is the one who's told us not to let anyone back who doesn't exhibit symptoms of any illness. We're preparing for quarantine. It's a safety measure for you, Ma'am."

"Mother…" I caught Elizabeth's hand with a smile.

"Darling!" exclaimed Elizabeth, throwing her arms around me. "These fools wouldn't let me go back to you! They said that the doctor would be with you but then they wouldn't let me join you! It's completely ridiculous. What did he say?"

But before I could answer, my stomach wrenched and I clapped my hand to my mouth, staring at one of the nurses pleadingly. She understood, grabbing a wastebasket behind the desk and holding it out for me. I threw up noisily, Elizabeth rubbing my back. Someone brought me a glass of water when I was finished.

"I'm fine! I'm fine, thank you…" I managed once it was over. The nurse checked me over once before letting me leave on Elizabeth's arm. She helped me into the waiting taxi before questioning me again.

"Sweetheart, are you alright? What did the doctor say?"

I folded my hands over my abdomen, smiling a little wearily. Elizabeth's gloved hand flew to her mouth, her eyes widening. A slow grin spread across her lips.

"Truly?" she gasped.

I giggled a little weakly and addressed the cabbie.

"The Masen-Stanley firm, please."

The secretary at the desk downstairs didn't wait for us to ask. He simply rose and smiled and directed us to the elevator. My heart pounded as we approached the door. The secretary – Joey, if I remembered right – knocked smartly on the door.

"Mr. Masen, Sir. Mrs. Masen and Mrs. Masen are here to see you."

"Bella? Mother?" Edward's voice was worried. His figure cast a shadow in the glass before he pulled the door open. "What's the matter? What's happened?"

"Calm down, Eddie. You worry too much," Elizabeth chided, her eyes and smile gentle. She smoothed a stray lock of hair away from Edward's forehead before stepping past him, settling gracefully into a chair in front of his desk. Edward turned his confused gaze on me, taking my hand. He led me to the other chair, pulling it out for me. I sat carefully, more aware of my movements than I had ever been.

"Bella merely has something she wants to share with you. As you requested, I visited her this afternoon to make sure she was well. But the poor dear just looked wretched! So we went to Mercy Hospital, and visited the doctor. We've just come from there, and we thought you would like to know his diagnosis."

Edward held my hands with worry evident on his face. I couldn't help but smile.

"What did the doctor say, Bella? Food poisoning? Is it something terrible?"

"Not at all." I smiled up at him, radiating warmth. His brows only furrowed further with worry. "I'm fine. More than fine. I'm terrific. Edward…" I rose and pulled his hand to my abdomen, smiling. My face hurt I was smiling so much. I watched as his eyebrows rose higher than I'd ever seen them. His eyes sparkled. His perfect mouth spread into an ecstatic smile as he realized what I was saying.

"You're going to be a father!"

Edward pulled me into his arms and held me tight, kissing me enthusiastically. I responded with my usual fervor and was wrapped around him in a most unladylike way when Elizabeth cleared her throat.

We jumped apart as if we had been electrocuted.

"Yes, well, perhaps you should save that for a later time, dears…" Elizabeth laughed, her eyes averted modestly.

Edward let out a throaty chuckle and I laughed, unable to help the feeling of euphoria that engulfed me. He held my hand tenderly.

"Shall we tell Father?" he asked, not looking at his mother while stroking my gloved fingers.

"Of course. Someone has to pass out cigars," she said with a wink, leading the way out the door. I paused and caught Edward's sleeve before he could follow her.

"Did you call New York?"

The elation on Edward's face faded a little and I watched as his expression became more guarded, a little distressed.

"I don't think… Kate's coming back, Bella. Most of the Bronks have been quarantined."

"Quarantined? Why?"

"It's a new illness… I was afraid, when Mother said you went to the hospital… Well, the doctors aren't quite sure what to do about it yet. The papers there are calling it the influenza, but the symptoms are varied and the number of deaths so far is a lot greater than with pneumonia and such…"

"But…"

"Kate's in a hospital, Bella," he said softly, his voice pained. He knew how much I loved her. I felt my heart clench for my friend. "I don't think she'll be leaving… I spoke to a doctor. They said she's comfortable, but…"

"I… see…"

"I'm sorry, Bella," he whispered to me. His hands cradled my face as if I were made of glass and his lips brushed from my jaw to my mouth, placing soft kisses on my skin. They were apologetic, almost sad for my newest pain. I felt the sadness of Renée's death hit me again, followed in quick succession by a new ache of loss.

Kate, my best – and at times my only friend – would not be coming home.

…..

A/N: Well. There you have it! Hope you enjoyed this installment of Once Upon a Time in 1917. We're getting closer and closer to our climax. Yes, Bella is pregnant. While the invention of birth control was sometime in Ancient Egypt, its free use was not until the 30's, and was not endorsed by scientists, doctors, or religious sects until much later. So, obviously the newlyweds can only be so safe.

Remember, I'm trying to keep this as close to the cannon we all know and love. Bella and Edward's fate WILL NOT CHANGE. They will have their happy ending. There's still a lot of time to go before we reach the tear-jerking chapters, but this is a little taste of what's to come.

About Carlisle: Bella meets him, but Elizabeth and Edward will not until their extended stay in Mercy's quarantined ward.

Please review! It's not a requirement for me to post but it does motivate me to post faster. Please let me know how you like it. I wont change my plot – it's already in my head – but if you find any errors, anything wrong at all, I want to know! And comments, concerns, questions are welcome! I love reviews. I love being favorited. Thank you all so much for them!

To those who asked: Both Edward and Bella will eventually be turned. Bella's experience will be a bit different than in Breaking Dawn, but Edward's will be as it was described in New Moon.

Thank you so much to those of you who have reviewed and favorited! It makes me so happy to know that you all are enjoying the results of my boredom. What makes me a little sad (though it may be selfish) is that I have 2,224 hits and only 19 comments. Even if those of you hitters hate what you see, I want to know, and why. THANK YOU AGAIN EVERYONE WHO IS REVIEWING!

As always, happy reading!


	9. Expecting

A/N: Whew! Voila! The long-expected ninth chapter. Sorry for the wait, after a full week of posting consecutively. I'm preparing for the beginning of term so I fear that the chapters will be coming a little less regularly. Sorry, dear readers. Anyway.

I have never owned and never will own anything mentioned in SM's Twilight saga. She is a God. I am a poor student. Enjoy.

Chapter Nine: Expecting

Five, almost six months pregnant felt wonderful. And terrible. And frightening. All at once. Some nights I woke craving chocolate, others I wanted eggs. As the child inside me grew, the passion I felt for Edward grew, too. I wanted him to hold me the same as he had on our wedding night, and over and over again, he refused me.

"Edward, please," I begged, clinging to him. He sighed in exasperation and looked me up and down once. I blushed. The negligee I had worn to bed had scrunched up around my hips during my attempts to change his mind.

"No, Bella," he said as he pushed my hands away from his nightshirt. I looked away as my face fell, fighting back irrational tears. Heat rose in my face and neck as the feeling of rejection washed over me.

"Bella?" I heard alarm in his voice. "Bella!" he ran his fingers desperately over my tear-streaked cheeks, wiping away the moisture.

"You… don't want me..?" I whimpered through the sobs that suddenly wracked my body.

"Oh, Bella, of course I..!" he made a frustrated sound in his throat, his pained expression darkening to a scowl. "As if it isn't hard enough, without all this..!" he said as he grabbed a fistful of the satin and lace at my thigh. "Of course I want you, Bella… But it's too dangerous with the baby! Be patient… I can love you other ways," he whispered, kissing my lips gently.

But it wasn't the same. And my frustration grew, along with my moodiness, as the fifth month ended. Then, on March 27, 1918 I felt all of it melt away in a single moment.

I gasped as the baby inside me nudged me from the inside. I placed my hand over the spot in surprise and grinned when he kicked again.

"Edward!" I cried from my chair in the parlor, my eyes wide. He came running immediately, his sleeves rolled up past his elbows, my apron folded in half and tied at his waist. I couldn't help but giggle.

"What is it? What's wrong? Has something happened?" he asked in nearly a panic, taking in my figure. I laughed and held out my hand to him.

"Come here, give me your hand! He kicked!"

I watched as Edward's eyes widened in wonder and a smile lit up his handsome features.

"Really? Where? Is he still?"

"Mmhm. Here." I held his hand to the spot and smiled as he stared and smiled. He cooed over my swollen stomach, kissing me through my dress where the baby kicked.

"Hello little one…"

"Do you want a boy or a girl?" I asked, leaning back in the rocking chair, running my fingers through Edward's hair.

"You imagine the baby to be a boy don't you?" he said tenderly, kissing my swollen stomach again as the baby kicked.

"Yes."

"I would have a little girl. With your beautiful eyes, and chocolate hair, and blushing cheeks. But I'll be happy either way, so long as he or she is ours."

Both of us jumped when the shrill ring of the telephone cut through our moment. Edward sighed and kissed my cheek before rising and going to the hall.

"Hello? Edward Masen speaking."

There was a long pause, then Edward's tone changed. I pulled myself up, going to the doorway.

"What do you mean, Mother? What's this about Father..?"

I paused before the hall, not wanting to intrude but worried about Anthony. He had been ill for the last week. He had even missed the baby shower – not that I minded. I didn't want the fuss, anyway. The only reason Edward had allowed it was because of Elizabeth's insistence. He knew how much I hated parties.

"I… I see. Alright. Thank you, Mother. I'll be there after dinner. I'll see you soon."

Edward hung up the phone, his expression guarded as he turned to me.

"Is everyone well?" I asked lightly as he wrapped me in his arms.

"Yes… Father's gone to the hospital. We have some good news, though." Edward's eyes and smile lightened. "Mother reports that you and I have evened up with the creditors. I'll double check of course, but I think we're finally on the up and up."

"How long has it been? A year?" I laughed, kissing his cheek.

"It would have been longer if not for you, Bella. You've given up so much to further our efforts…"

He kissed me then, and I temporarily forgot about my worries.

Dinner was a casual affair. Edward hadn't allowed me to make our meals for three weeks now, ever since the pain in my pelvis had gone from a dull ache to a stabbing pain at times. Tonight he served shepherd's pie with iced tea to drink. We ate in silence, sharing a loving look now and again, but a kind of tension hung in the air. It was an anxious energy that radiated out of Edward, and I wondered how much he was hiding from me.

Probably as much as I'd be willing to hide to keep him from hurting.

After dinner Edward led me to the parlor. It was our habit now to sit here in the evenings after suppers. He sat at the piano while I meticulously embroidered the baby's bonnet. Now that we were finally in the financial clear, I hoped we could start working on the baby's room. Edward wanted to hire someone to paint fields and flowers and lambs all over the place. I wanted sky blue paint with maybe a white duck border.

Edward stopped suddenly and I looked up to see him with his hands in his hair, his eyes agonized.

"Edward? What's wrong?" I asked. My voice shot up an octave as I reacted to the pain on his face. But as soon as I had worked myself into a panic, Edward's brow smoothed into placidness with only the tense set of his lips and eyes revealing that it was indeed a façade. His arms wrapped loosely around my hips and he rested his cheek against my swollen middle.

"I'm just tired, darling. Let's go to bed, shall we?"

"Are you sure you're fine, Edward?" I said softly, stroking his bronze hair. He nodded mutely against my stomach. We both felt it when the baby inside me moved.

"I cannot wait to meet him or her," he whispered. The tightness in Edward's face disappeared when he spoke about our child.

"Neither can I," I answered in a soft murmur. Edward sighed and rose slowly to take my hand and lead me upstairs.

Neither of us spoke as we dressed for bed. Edward blew out the lamp on our bedside table and carefully drew me against his chest. His larger hand covered mine as I cradled my abdomen and relaxed into the vibrations of his chest as he hummed a lullaby.

In the morning, I woke to find Edward absent from his side of the bed and a breakfast tray in his place, as usual. It had been over a month since he had allowed me to cook for him before work. I found myself wishing, for the millionth time, that Kate had been there to help ease his burden. And as soon as I thought it I sent out a silent prayer that she was happy, wherever she was.

After breakfast, I made my way downstairs. It occurred to me that I quite disliked the sorry soul who came up with stairs. They were a menace. A horror on the face of the earth that ought not to have been invented. A torture mechanism for those like myself: a girl with two left feet and a dubious sense of balance. But by some miracle I only stumbled slightly once, and quickly regained my balance. I sat in the picture window in the parlor, propped up against a mountain of pillows as I picked up my sewing.

The doctors had told us that the baby would be born in June, and I only hoped that I would be able to finish stitching together his communion dress and outfits before he arrived. With my slow pace, who knew? My poor boy might have to wear diapers and nothing else for a month or two.

The silly pattern on the pamphlet was quickly earning my hatred. My fingers were sore from pricking myself so often. Aggravated, I turned to knitting.

The needles clicked together. The grandfather clock in the corner groaned out a steady tattoo.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Click. Cli-Click. Click. Cli-Click.

I would drive myself mad sitting around all day. Listening to my sanity tick-tocking away. I hated doing nothing. I wanted to go get groceries, take lunch to my husband, visit Charlie and Elizabeth while I was at it.

Who said just because I was with child I couldn't be out and about? Was the swelling of my stomach something to be ashamed of?

I was married for crow's sake! Happily married! For nearly a year, now!

And I would sit on my bottom, knitting, no longer.

Excited by my somewhat rebellious decision I mounted the treacherous stairs and went up, careful not to trip, ultra-aware of my steps.

It took me an annoyingly long amount of time to put on my walking dress. The empire waist was designed exactly for my advanced pregnancy, but still it was difficult to manage the buttons in my swollen state.

I slipped on gloves and a jacket, pinning up my hair and pulling on a hat on my way out.

Oh, to be free! It felt like ages since I had felt the open air. True, it was still a little chilly for my tastes, but the sunshine felt wonderful on my skin. The people on the walk that tipped hats didn't make me blush for once. I stepped past a couple parked cars and hailed a cab. It wouldn't do to walk too far like this. The driver dropped me at one of the many groceries. I bought chicken, some pork, a little beef I could use for a roast, eggs, bread, and some French cheese. At the deli next door I purchased two corned beef sandwiches with potato crisps.

From there it was a five-minute walk to the firm and courthouse.

I had forgotten the marble steps that led to the door. A secretary – I recognized his face but couldn't recall whom he worked under – helped me in. I was in the middle of thanking him when the atmosphere of the place hit me.

The usually bustling office seemed to be in a state of grieving. No one wore all black, or armbands, but every expression was forlorn. I felt a little sick, remembering again Edward's brief conversation with Elizabeth over the phone, and ran a soothing hand over my suddenly restless baby. As per usual I was escorted to the elevator and directed to my husband's office.

Before he could leave, I put my hand on the receptionist's arm.

"Did something happen to Mr. Masen?" I asked a little tremulously.

He eyed me sympathetically, nodding a little. He knew I wasn't speaking about Edward.

"He's been quarantined, ma'am… The Masen house – the whole o'Astor street has been-"

"That's enough, Jason," snapped Edward, swinging the door open. His glare was so intimidating it was a wonder the poor boy didn't cringe.

"Yes, sir."

Edward pulled me into his office gently and returned to his desk, sitting and leaning over its surface with his head in his hands.

"Quarantined?" I asked, feeling the blood drain from my face. I knew what that meant. It meant the Influenza. Healthy people, people to look after the sick, wouldn't be allowed in. And the sick ones wouldn't be allowed out.

Edward's only response was a curt nod.

"What about Mother?" I squeaked.

"She's fine. She's being seen by a physician to make sure she's not infected. Once she's been released, she'll be coming to stay with us.

"And Father..?"

I was met with silence.

"Does Charlie know?" I felt myself start to panic. He had been spending more time with my father-in-law than I had recently.

"He's being checked too, but I wouldn't worry…" he sighed dejectedly, pinching the bridge of his nose as if it would relieve the pressure building in his temples.

I sat there in silence for a moment then went around the desk to rub his shoulders and neck gently. I took off my gloves and massaged his shoulders gently, kissing the back of his head.

I wanted to cry. No one was kinder than Anthony.

"What are you doing here, Bella?"

"I couldn't stand being in the house any longer," I said a little ruefully. How silly. Worried about boredom when this was looming over him… "And I wanted to bring you lunch."

I pulled Edward's paper-wrapped sandwich out of my basket and sat beside him, unwrapping my own. The chips were all gone – I had succumbed to the urge to snack on the way.

"I'm sorry, Bella. I-"

I put my hand over his lips lightly.

"Please don't apologize and make me feel worse for worrying you more."

He sighed and kissed my palm, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"I love you."

"A little too much, I think… But you have to admit. It's nice to be together a little more often, don't you think?" I teased, trying to make him forget, even for just a moment, that we had more pain to face together.

"Definitely."

But the sanctuary of each other's arms couldn't protect us from it completely. I felt like bad luck must be my secret lover. The people I cared for seemed to fly from me.

Edward Anthony Masen, Sr., was put to rest 30 March 1918. None of us – that is, Charlie, Elizabeth, Edward, or I – saw it happen. The doctors said he died in his sleep, between fits of chills and fever. The house remained quarantined. We were given Anthony's ashes on March 29th. And soon after, Elizabeth came to stay with us.

None of us were the same. We felt Anthony's absence more acutely than anything else. And as the number of quarantined sections of Chicago rose in the Tribune, and the number of doctors available rapidly deteriorated – for they were not immune – and the reports of children, elderly, and not-so-elderly died, we waited. We anxiously prayed for a reprieve so that perhaps our child could be born and avoid the danger of illness, all while we truly expected more tragedy, more loss, more pain.

A/N: AND THE PLOT ADVANCES! I had a lot of difficulty writing this chapter. It took a little while to figure out what I was going to do to get this moving. I still have a lot of time to account for.

I've decided that I'm going to take this past Edward's change. Keep reviewing please! It'll keep me motivated. :P I promise there will be a happy ending, after a sort.


	10. One Being

A/N: Wow. I'm half way through my first term and I'm feeling terrible! So much accomplished yet I've neglected this story so badly… I hope you'll all forgive me. I must ask for your patience and support while I keep this going. Please review. Even flames are welcome. Anything will feed my motivation and help get chapters posted faster. I've skipped ahead a bit more. Hope you like where I'm headed.

I have never owned and never will own anything mentioned in SM's Twilight saga. She is a God. I am a poor student. Enjoy.

Chapter Nine: Expecting

"Bella, dear!" Elizabeth called from downstairs. I groaned and sat up in bed, sighing as I felt Edward Junior turn a somersault over my bladder.

"Please, behave, E.J.," I whispered, rubbing my engorged abdomen absently as I listened again for Elizabeth.

"Darling, would you rather have ham or bacon for breakfast?" she called sweetly. "You should eat more protein! We're fortunate to have it during these troubling times…" her voice trailed off into mutters, probably about my refusal to eat when Edward barely put forth the effort to push his meals around with his fork before excusing himself.

"Just eggs and toast, please." I felt a little guilty. Elizabeth was just worrying… It warmed my heart to know that she cared so much. It was like having Renée back in my life.

I sighed and hoisted myself from the bed, steadying myself with the armchair Edward had pushed beside the bed to steady me in the mornings. Lately, he woke earlier and earlier to get to work and avoid the breakfast either Elizabeth or I (usually Elizabeth, these days) would set out. At eight months pregnant, I rarely managed waking before seven o'clock. I was thankful, at least, that E.J. seemed to have the same sleeping patterns I did.

Rubbing my lower back with a wince, I shuffled to the bathroom. Ah, the joys of pregnancy. At least the almost-painful ache I had felt so acutely at six months had faded for the most part. Still, it was frustrating during those occasions when Edward would brush his fingertips from my shoulder to the crease my elbow or stroke stray strands of my hair away from my face. It gave me a pang of sadness to admit that those instances had dwindled into a rarity these days. I understood, of course. We all felt Anthony's loss still. It hung in the air like a foul odor - painful and heavy.

I walked downstairs slowly, one foot at a time, wrapped in a terry robe. I rarely changed from my nightdress or day dress anymore. I sighed, for the first time missing the pretty things Edward bought for me. At least I was comfortable – mostly.

Elizabeth kissed my cheek and helped me sit at the table as I came through the doorway of the kitchen.

"There you are, dear. I was beginning to wonder whether I would have to come help you. Here, eat up."

Of course, the breakfast Elizabeth had laid out was far more extravagant than I needed. Eggs Benedict, fresh-cut baguette, butter, and peach preserves were arranged in my place setting. Elizabeth had her usual breakfast of one hard-boiled egg, toast, orange juice, jam, and Earl Gray tea.

We sat in companionable silence for a little while, the only sound the gentle clink of silverware against porcelain and the tap-tapping of her spoon against her egg. I realized with another touch of sadness that Elizabeth used to fill silence with happy chatter, just because she loved to talk. _Oh, Anthony, you've left us all too early,_ I thought.

"Edward called from the office reminding you that we have an appointment with the doctor and midwife today."

"When should we be expecting them?"

"Around noon. Enough time to make you presentable," she said with a laugh. I pouted but couldn't help being a little glad to get out of my nightdress.

"So… will he be home for lunch?" I asked, trying not to get my hopes up even as my voice lifted in anticipation. Elizabeth's smile and eyes tightened.

"He didn't say dear. I can call and ask if you like."

I deliberated that for a moment. He hated to know when I was in pain. That he was causing it changed nothing… How could I add to my husband's suffering with my selfishness? No. It would be best for him not to know. I would tell him everything that night, anyway.

"No," I said after the long pause. "It's fine. He doesn't need to be here. He's far too busy at work," I said, trying to sound light, smiling with a little effort. I looked down at my plate to avoid my mother-in-law's gaze.

After breakfast I insisted on helping clean up. Elizabeth was still faster than me, clearing up most of the dishes before I could even look at them, but I managed to at least cover up the jam, preserves, butter, and wrap up the remaining bread. She helped me upstairs to get me bathed and changed. It took help for me to get into the big porcelain tub successfully.

"Ugh… I feel enormous. I'm my own planet," I grumbled in complaint as Elizabeth ran the soapy sponge over my shoulders while I combed shampoo suds through my wet strands. It sometimes amazed me how used to luxury I had become. Only two years ago shampoo had been a bit of a rarity. Along with toothpaste. The perfumed glycerin soap felt good on my skin. I leaned forward against the back of the tub, kneeling up so Elizabeth could get my lower back.

"Mother," I said quietly, turning my head to look up at Elizabeth, her delicate hands adjusting her rolled up sleeves.

"Yes, Bella, dear?" she said with a gentle smile. She loved it when I called her that.

"Thank you," I whispered, smiling at her weakly, "I don't think I could do this if you weren't here." My eyes pricked and I blinked, looking down to hide my sudden tears.

Elizabeth surprised me by throwing her arms around my wet shoulders, soaking the front of her bodice.

"You are very welcome, darling. You're the daughter I never had, as well as my Eddie's wife," she told me, kissing my cheek. Her hand wiped the unexpected tears from my cheek and she pulled me back to lean against the back of the tub. "Now relax while I rinse your hair for you dear. Take this," she commanded gently, handing me the sponge and soap. I rubbed it over my distended stomach and relaxed into Elizabeth's gentle touch while she poured fresh, cooler water over my hair.

When she was finished, she gave me a short command to stay still while she drained the tub and refilled it with clean, cooler water. It was June, and the heat did not help my moods in my late stage of pregnancy. I sighed, delighted that sweat did not immediately bead on my heated forehead.

Elizabeth hummed as she ran a bone-toothed comb through my locks, untangling them as they dried over the side of the tub. A rolled towel supported my neck. My thoughts turned to my husband again. I couldn't remember the last time my Edward had smiled at me without the stain of pain marring his features. I remembered when I lost Renée and realized that if I had not moved to Chicago, I would not have been able to let her go so quickly. Edward had healed my pain. I wondered if our child would be able to heal Edward's pain. Though I still missed Anthony, mourned him, I understood that that vivacious man would have sooner died than see Edward and I sad when we awaited such joy. No one, save Edward, had been more proud than Anthony upon learning of my pregnancy.

True to character, after Edward and I left Edward's office, Anthony passed out expensive South American cigars, sparing no one. I smiled at the memory. It showed what type of person Anthony was that he did not care if Society sniggered at him for showing Negros and Irish the same respect he showed anyone else.

"This is America!" he had said when I had showed surprise and admiration the first time I saw him tip a Negro cab driver. Anthony had been just as generous with him as he was with the men who drove the fancier town cars downtown. "We are all created equal, with God-given unalienable rights, isn't that right, friend?" he had said jovially, clapping the young man on the shoulder. The driver, his skin a beautiful shade of coffee, had smiled and thanked Anthony. It had been the first time I had seen anyone except for Charlie and Renée behave such. And even Renée had acted with a little more reserve around Negro workers.

I wished that Kate had gotten to know Anthony better. She would have loved him.

Elizabeth sighed, and in the sudden silence I realized that she had been humming for the past several minutes.

"What's that you were singing?" I asked as I turned to look up at Elizabeth. She continued humming softly, plaiting my mostly-dry hair now. The nonsensical notes transformed into words at my bidding, and Elizabeth's voice wrapped me in a spell. The tune was wistful, sweet, and impossibly, angelically sad.

"'Tis the last rose of the summer / Left blooming alone, / All her lovely companions / are faded and gone! / No flower of her kindred, / No rosebud is nigh / to reflect back her blushes, / or give sigh for sigh.

"I'll not leave thee, thou lone one, / To pine on the stem; / Since the lovely are sleeping, / Go sleep though with them: / Thus kindly I scatter / Thy leaves o'er the bed / Where thy mates of the garden / Lie scentless and dead.

"So soon may I follow, / When friendships decay, / And from love's shining circle, / The gems drop away, / When true hearts lie wither'd, / And fond ones are flown, / Oh! Who would inhabit / This bleak world alone."

As Elizabeth sang she pulled me from the tub gently, guiding me to stand on the plush towels she had laid out on the floor for while she helped me dry off. She handed me a towel and, still singing, walked into the bedroom to retrieve one of the two maternity gowns I owned. The Lane Bryant dress was much like my other dresses except that it was slightly more reminiscent of earlier styles and had an elastic waistband, something that I had never seen before buying it. I rarely went out, so I rarely wore it. After all, it wasn't proper for a woman so far along to be out and about. I wondered absently if that would ever change. That, if I had a daughter, is she would have to hide the miracle of being pregnant as if it were shameful.

Elizabeth buttoned my dress up for me and smiled a little sadly.

"Come now, dear, we should finish sewing the embroidery for the baby's Christening gown," she said with a smile, sighing a little sadly as she carefully led me down the stairs and to the parlor.

"Terrific! Sewing…" I said with heavy sarcasm. Elizabeth laughed her exuberant laugh and sat me in the chaise lounge, pushing a cushion behind my lower back.

At noon, the grandfather clock in Edward's study chimed noisily and was quickly followed by four sharp taps at the door. Elizabeth rose gracefully and flitted to the door, looking through the slender glass windows on either side of the door before letting the guests in. The doctor and the midwife were depressingly ragged looking.

They followed a welcoming Elizabeth into the parlor. I had had the foresight to stand when Elizabeth went to get the door, and already I could feel my ankles swelling to the size of thick salamis.

"Doctor Morgan, Miss Jones, a pleasure to see you both again. Please make yourself at home. May I get you anything? Tea or coffee?"

The doctor sighed and took off his hat, mopping his forehead with a handkerchief. He and the midwife exchanged a long glance and I frowned slightly. Elizabeth giggled behind her hand delicately. The midwife frowned.

"Mrs. Masen, why in God's name are you standing up in your delicate state?" she asked, exasperated. The doctor held up an imploring hand, a frown creasing his features.

"Mrs. Masen, do you remember what I told you when Dr. Cullen referred you to me?" he interjected. I sat carefully, pouting a little at being chastised. I wondered briefly if I feigned ignorance if it would make it easier. Probably a little. I tried to relax my face into polite, innocent confusion.

"I'm sorry Doctor, but I cannot recall..?" The doctor did not appear convinced of my forgetfulness, but he humored me.

"Your bleeding during the early months of your pregnancy indicated that your state is far more fragile than most. You should be staying in bed, Mrs. Masen. Limiting your exertions to necessities only. Now, please, let's get you upstairs…"

The midwife helped me up, Elizabeth taking my other hand, patting it sympathetically.

"Actually, I thought it may be better if I moved into the guest room for all of that… It would be easier to clean up, and it's closest to the kitchen," I suggested. The doctor looked at me for a moment, considering, then turned to the midwife.

"It's up to you, Miss Jones."

"If you would like to see the room before you decide, Miss Jones, it is right through these doors," said Elizabeth helpfully. She had seen my pleading look. E.J. was playing trampoline on my bladder again. Dr. Morgan opened the doors and we walked through first, Elizabeth helping me waddle over to the restroom door. "If you'll excuse us for a moment…"

Elizabeth helped me into the powder room for the ninth time in the last two hours while Miss Jones went to the guest bedroom. When we emerged, she gave us a nod of approval.

"Yes, this is much more convenient. Please, Mrs. Masen, lie down like a good girl, now," she said with a sigh, leading me to the large guest bed. I nodded and obediently sat and lay down, happy to be off my feet, at least.

The doctor began the long process of checking my vitals and then asked about my eating habits, my _other _habits, and my sleeping habits. They asked how active the baby was. I told them about how he seemed to sleep regularly and was active regularly. I told them how he responded to my voice and Edward's.

Finally, Elizabeth and Dr. Morgan left the room while Miss Jones took out a measuring tape. She helped me take off my gown and carefully measured me around the middle, twice. Afterward, she helped me dress and let the doctor and Elizabeth back in.

"How far along are we?"

"33 inches, Doctor," she reported with a slight frown.

"A little small, isn't it? Considering…"

"What's wrong? What are you talking about?" I demanded, suddenly sharp. I did not like what they were implying. Was something wrong with my Eddie? Why wouldn't they spit it out?

"What was your waist size before your pregnancy, Mrs. Masen?" Miss Jones asked bluntly. I blushed a little and answered quickly.

"Twenty-two inches in my corset."

"Hm… It should be all right. But Miss Jones should move in as soon as you're ready to have her," said Dr. Morgan dismissively.

"Of course," answered Elizabeth, sensing how agitated I was. She led them to the door as they said their goodbyes.

"Do call if anything changes. You have our number. If there is an emergency of any sort, take her to Saint Anthony's. Mercy, Passavant Memorial, and Wesley Memorial have both been designated as quarantine areas for influenza victims. Above all else, make sure Mrs. Masen stays in bed. Going out in her condition, in these times, would be extremely dangerous for her and the child," he insisted. I sighed from my place in bed. Wonderful. Forced confinement. What would I do for the next month? Knit? I wanted to cry. It would be better if Edward could at least…

I cut the thought off, feeling disgusted with myself. How could I even _think_ that Edward had time to entertain me when he was grieving? I wished for the millionth time that I could comfort him. That our baby would be a comfort to him. That new life and joy could temper the grief.

Finally, I heard the door close and Elizabeth joined me again. I twisted my wedding ring around my finger nervously, restless, as she pushed an overstuffed armchair to the bedside and sat gracefully.

"Well… that was… eventful," she said with obvious amusement in her voice. "I never do quite get used to how aggravated you get. You're so impatient. It is positively adorable, Bella, dear." She laughed, patting my knee through the coverlet.

I grinned ruefully and glanced at the clock, glad that Edward would be home in only three hours.

"Did you have to lie-in?" I asked with a pout, feeling very much like a petulant child.

"Yes, dear, a quite a bit longer than you, I dare say," said Elizabeth with a little surprise. "Anthony and I were married in 1900. I was eighteen, but I was much smaller than you. Really, I barely looked fifteen years old, so when we discovered I was with child, the midwife worried that my delicate size would complicate the pregnancy…"

"She had me restricted to the house from my fifth month onward, and I was limited to very little exercise from then until my seventh month. After that, I stayed in bed until Edward was born… In the end, everything worked out fine. Which is how we got our darling Eddie," she smiled in pride at the memory. We were quiet for several minutes. She, reflective, and I a little frightened.

"What is it like?" I asked softly. I could not imagine the childbirth itself. All I could see was my little boy, with bronze curls, pink cheeks, and dazzling emerald eyes.

"I could only describe it as… the most horrific pain you could imagine," Elizabeth admitted a little haltingly, laughing. "But then, when you hear him cry for the first time, and you see him look up at you, you know you would endure it a thousand times over just to hold him in your arms," she said with a sweet smile.

We passed the afternoon in conversation. At three, she left me to prepare for dinner, and promised that she and Edward would join me in here, propriety be damned. At five o'clock, I heard the front door close softly. I counted the footsteps as Edward walked through the Foyer to the kitchen to greet his mother.

"Hello, darling. How was work?" she asked. I inhaled appreciatively as the scent of roasted chicken drifted down the hall and under my door.

"Good enough," he said tightly. Not very well, then. "Is Bella sleeping?" he asked, the tone of his voice a little more tender.

"No, dear, I do not believe so. She has relocated into the guest room. The midwife thought it would be best if-"

But whatever Elizabeth was saying was lost to me as Edward walked through the door, his eyes sweeping my frame.

"Edward!" I called appreciatively, holding open my arms and sitting up. He rushed to me, enveloping me in his arms. I relaxed immediately, exhaling a breath that I felt I had been holding since I woke.

"Bella," he whispered into my neck. I happily stroked Edward's broad shoulders as he relaxed against me. The tension seemed to disappear with my ministrations, and he sighed in content, his head slipping down to rest against my breast, over my heart. His hand rubbed soothing circles over my abdomen. Little E.J. responded with a twist. I felt him kick me in the ribs and winced. Edward saw my reaction and sweetly pressed his lips to my stomach through my dress.

"Hush, little one. No hurting mummy," he said in his honeyed voice. The baby calmed immediately and I smiled.

"You're going to be the most amazing father in the world," I said adoringly, my eyes shining with pride as Edward cooed over our growing child.

"And you the most beautiful and loving mother," he intoned, stroking my face from temple to chin with the back of his hand.

Edward rose from his knees and sat in the armchair beside the bed, stroking patterns over my tummy while I told him about the doctor's visit. He chuckled when I whined about being confined to bed, and relaxed visibly while I babbled. I was so happy that the pain in his eyes lessened around me. But the tightness in the corners still remained. The set of his lips was still just slightly strained.

Eventually, Elizabeth tapped on the door and backed in, laden with a tray of food. Edward rushed to help her. To his surprise, she proceeded to bring in two other trays.

Dinner was a casual affair conducted at my bedside. Edward helped Elizabeth move the kitchen table into the bedroom and they carried an extra chair. She set our places and we ate, enjoying our meal together. Both Elizabeth and I were happy to see some of the drawn lines leave Edward's face. Here, in the bedroom, we felt Anthony's absence a little less. I hoped this would be a habitual occurrence for the remainder of my pregnancy.

To my delight, Edward stayed with me after he and Elizabeth cleared up the remnants of our meal. The table was left in the room, just pushed slightly out of the way. He crawled under the duvet beside me and cradled my head against his shoulder while he rubbed my belly in circles. He whispered sweet nothings in my ear and helped me change into my nightdress when Elizabeth brought it for me.

When the sun had set, Edward left the bed for a few moments to change, and then rejoined me, laying out a suit for the morning.

"I love you," I whispered into the darkness. I felt his arms wrap around me tighter and smiled.

"As I love you, my Bella," he answered, kissing my forehead.

"…You can be happy, you know," I said softly, nearly inaudible with my face pressed against Edward's side.

"What do you mean, love?" he asked, "I am happy."

"No, Edward… Not really. I know you're still grieving… We all are. What I mean is… You don't have to shut down to grieve. Anthony was as happy as you were when he learned about E.J. Yet for the past three months you've hardly spoken to me like this… And now… I just want you to know that just because you're grieving does not mean that you cannot rejoice in our son's life." My voice was barely above a breath now. "I hate seeing you so dejected, when I am so impossibly happy," I admitted.

Edward shifted in the bed and I became aware that he had risen onto his arms, crouching over me.

"I promise you, my one and only love, that no man, rich or poor, king or servant, could be as happy as I have been since the day I first saw you, despite the fact that I do still grieve."

And Edward sounded so convicted that I could do nothing less than believe without question. Suddenly, I felt his lips pressing against mine in askance. Warmth shot through my body and I responded with a fervor I had not felt in far too long.

His long fingers danced over the ties of my nightdress, loosening them to expose my chest. His lips descended down my throat and lower in a fiery trail. His hands pulled the hem of my dress up until I could feel him palming my hips and thighs. My breath came faster, my heart beat more rapidly than I could keep track of. A small mewl left my lips as his mouth closed over me.

It had been five months since I had felt his hands on me this way, and when he wrapped my leg around his hips, I could only rejoice. Our bodies came together in frenzy, melting into one moving, thrashing, wild thing. I worried a little about the obstacle my swollen abdomen caused, but Edward solved the problem easily by gently guiding me onto my side. I was a little startled by the position, but as soon as he moved against me again, I forgot my reservations and gave into the pleasure.

He held me tighter and I loved him for it. He called me beautiful and I melted in delight. And when we were both spent, he collapsed beside me and held me to his chest. As he pulled the duvet over our slightly sweaty bodies the sounds of our slowing hearts filled the silence, syncing into one rhythm, asserting the thing we both so devoutly believed: we were one being, and would never, ever, be separated. Pain, pleasure, everything only bound us tighter.

A/N: Voila! There it is! Hope you enjoyed the fluffy lemon at the end. :P Thought I'd reward all of my wonderful readers for being so patient with me. I'm working hard and I promise I'll get the next chapter up ASAP, but as always, reviewing inspires me to write faster.

Hope you liked it. Just a filler, really, but I promise the good stuff is coming.


	11. Fear

A/N: Wow… Two chapters in 24 hours. Bloody productive if I do say so myself. So please read and review. I love you all for being so patient with me. On with the show!

Disclaimer: I never have and never will own anything mentioned in SM's Twilight. I am but a poor student. She is a God. Enjoy.

. . . . . . . . . . .

Chapter Eleven: Fear

_. . . . . . . .Part One: Bella. . . . . . . . ._

I woke as the clock struck six o'clock in Edward's study. Sharp pain shot from my lower back through my torso and I felt as if I would faint from it. I felt a spasm ripple through my abdomen and I screamed as the pain intensified.

"Edward!" I gasped, just as he woke in a panic, turning on the bedside lamp.

"Bella? Bella, what's wrong?" he demanded, his hands grasping my arms to keep me from flailing. Another shock of pain. The baby!

"Call the doctor! Call the doctor now!" I shrieked. Edward yanked back the duvet, exposing my naked legs. The sheets were soaked in crimson.

"MOTHER!" he shouted as he plucked me from the sheets. He ran toward the door, yanking it open with difficulty as he cradled me against his chest.

"Edward? Bella? Whatever is the matter? What on earth… Bella!" she gasped, seeing the stained on my nightdress. I moaned in pain. The sharp shocks had subsided but in its place was a hollow, muted sort of agony.

"Where did the doctor say to take her?" he demanded, carefully wrapping me in a coat as Elizabeth grabbed a dress and coat for me. "…I'm afraid she's losing the baby," he added in an undertone.

My world spun to a halt. I feared it, and his words confirmed that fear. No… No! My precious little boy, bright eyes, sweet face – My vision blurred and spun as Edward shifted me. I could no longer understand what he said. I was dimly aware that he and Elizabeth were speaking and moving frantically, but it no longer reached me. Another jolt of pain and everything went black.

When I woke again, I smelled ammonia and iodine. The scents made me nauseous but I fought back the urge to retch successfully before opening my eyes. My hands automatically flew to my stomach and I sighed in relief. It was still swollen with E.J. At my caress, he fluttered, tapping a quick tattoo against my ribs before settling down.

"Mrs. Masen?" a masked nun came into the room. From the shape of her eyes I could tell she was smiling. "How do you feel?" she asked, checking something off on a clipboard before checking my vitals.

"A little… confused, but the pain is gone. I remember passing out… Where am I?"

"Saint Anthony's, Mrs. Masen. Mr. Masen and Madam Masen brought you in early yesterday morning. You almost went into premature labor. The doctor was able to stop it by giving you a sedative. Both you and your child are well, but I'm afraid you'll have to stay here for the remainder of your pregnancy," she said a little apologetically. She was young, barely older than myself.

"And Mr. Masen? Where is he?" I asked eagerly, just grateful that everything was all right.

"He and Madam Masen have been in the waiting room since yesterday. And Mr. Masen – God bless him – only left you when we called a specialist. After that, he and your mother settled down. Your physician, Dr. Morgan, came in earlier to check on you. He'll be making scheduled visits from now on, and Miss Jones is staying next door."

"I see… May I see my husband?" I asked, a little anxious. I hated to be away from him. A pained look overcame her face. She started fidgeting with her clipboard.

"Mrs. Masen, I'm afraid not. The Governor has issued a state of emergency in Chicago… I'm sorry, but only those who are ill or in need of intensive care can go past the waiting room in the hospitals until the state of emergency is lifted. It's to keep the influenza from spreading," she finished with a sympathetic look at me.

"Edward cannot come see me?" I asked, choking on the words.

She shook her head no, patting my hand.

"He won't see the birth of our child?"

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Masen… It's to keep both you and the baby safe until he or she is born and you are strong enough to care for him on your own," said the nun with finality. I hung my head, slumping against the pillows again.

I am not sure how long I slept. I only know that when I woke, the sun slanted through the blinds at a lower angle than before. The behabited nurse stood by my doorway.

"You've slept most of the day, Mrs. Masen. I'm truly sorry about your circumstances… I'm Sister Agatha, by the way," she said in a softer tone, sitting beside my bed. "I'm your assigned nurse so I'll be checking in on you. I can take you to prayer if you like, as well," she added.

"Thank you, Agatha." A thought struck me, then. "Is it… would it be possible to speak on the phone with Edward?" I asked with new hope. A smile lit up her face. She really was a gentle creature.

"Yes! If you like, I can bring a wheelchair and you can call now. The doctor was going to call him later to let him know you woke, anyway."

"Yes, please! As soon as possible, sister," I gasped in excitement. E.J. Reacted to my fluttering heart and I rubbed a soothing palm over my navel.

. . . . . . . . _Part Two: Edward_ . . . . . . . .

I paced back in forth in front of the offending telephone. Why in God's name had it not rung yet? It was simply ridiculous. We were outside of the quarantined zones. Neither my mother nor myself had set foot in a hospital since Bella had visited Mercy hospital five months ago. I spared a quick glance at my mother as I passed the parlor door. She was just as worried as I was. I heard her expel a sigh while I continued my trek – back and forth, back and forth. From the parlor entrance to the kitchen door. Again. And Again.

_Ri-Ring. Ri-ring._

I dashed to the phone, almost yanking the receiver away from the black box in my haste. My knuckles were white as I clutched it tightly, speaking into the phone rapidly.

"Masen-residence-Edward-Masen-Speaking!"

"Edward?"

My heart stuttered as I registered Bella's lovely, anxious voice. I braced my hand against the wall, struggling to keep from collapsing. My knees felt dangerously weak. My Bella, my heart, sounded healthy.

"Bella, tell me truly, are you well? And the child?"

"Both of us are fine, Darling," she said, her voice full of relief. It warmed my heart. I leaned against the wall, covering my eyes with my hand, trying to control my own relief.

"Edward?" she called through the sudden silence.

"I'm here, love," I answered reverently. I did not care if she was apart from me, for now, so long as she was safe. My world, my soul… If being with me was a danger to her – and obviously it was – then she should be as far from me as necessary. I smiled as I listened to my Bella. Strange muffled sounds came from the phone, and I frowned.

"I'm sorry, Edward," she sobbed suddenly. My heart broke all over again at the sound.

"No, no, Bella! Don't apologize! Please don't cry, my love… It's not your fault. Not at all. If anything… It's my callousness that caused your present condition. Please, love, do not cry on my behalf," I moaned into the phone. I knew I was begging and I did not care. I was not ashamed to express my love for her, least of all around my mother.

"B-but you ca-can't see us un-until after," she whimpered. My arms itched with the desire to be wrapped around her, comforting her, holding her and soothing her.

"It doesn't matter, Bella," I whispered into the phone, hoping she would hear me. "I want you to do something for me, love," I pleaded before pausing, waiting for her answer.

"Y-yes, anything…"

"You mustn't worry about me, Bella. I know this is for you to heal, to keep you safe. Just focus on staying healthy and delivering our beautiful child. Promise me Isabella. For me, please just focus on protecting your health and that of our baby."

"…I… Yes. Of course, Edward. Will you call me?" she sounded as if she were afraid I would deny her. I fought the smile that threatened at the corners of my mouth.

"Of course, silly girl. You've stolen my heart. How could I not call and reassure myself that you're keeping it safe? You are my everything, Bella. Without you, my world is an empty shell. An endless night with neither stars nor moon." I heard someone speak to her about dinner on her end.

"Bella, go eat dinner. I want you to eat as much as you can, do you understand?"

"Yes. I will. I love you, Edward," she said in a whisper. I imagined the blush that must be blooming on her cheeks and sighed, longing to be with her again.

"As I you, my darling wife. I will call during lunch tomorrow," I promised. The other voice was becoming more insistent. "Go now, love. I _will_ call."

"Alright. Good-bye," she said a little sadly. The words pulled on my heartstrings. I was so impossibly bound to her. My brunette beauty.

I sighed as I hung up the receiver and slid down against the wall with my head in my hands. I could not linger here too long. Mother would worry. But I could spare a few moments to let the intense relief and remorse flow over me.

If I had not given into my desire that night, Bella and the baby would not be apart from me. Now that they were safe, I would take our separation as a just punishment. I could bear it, for her. After all, it was I who put her there. Agony at that thought tore through my mind, but I quickly whipped it into submission. I finally stood and walked to where Mother waited for my report in the parlor.

"She and the baby are well, and she has access to a phone. I intend to call her again tomorrow during lunch and after dinner."

"That is such a relief!" Mother said, her dainty hand fluttering over her heart.

_A relief_. It was the greatest understatement I had heard in years.

In the morning I woke and ate a slice of bread with butter before going to the office. I walked briskly through the nearly deserted streets. People were caught up in the hysteria associated with the Influenza more than they were falling ill. Though Father had succumbed to the illness, I refused to let _fear_ rule what I did and did not do.

The office was already abuzz when I walked through the door.

"Mr. Masen!" called Joshua, the secretary. I could tell he was worried. He had a soft spot for my Bella – indeed, my whole family. His own father had worked with mine since Joshua was a small boy. I answered his question before he could ask it.

"She's well. But she's being confined to the hospital to protect her and the baby from the epidemic."

"Oh… Then is she allowed –"

"No, no visitors."

"Aw, shucks…"

I cringed at the expression on his face. "Please try to remember that Mrs. Bella Masen is happily married and with child, Joshua," I said with no small amount of annoyance in my voice. I saw my black expression reflected back at me in his eyes and was a bit smug when he cringed and rushed away. Others were quick to replace him, however.

"Mr. Masen," rushed Jason, our liaison to the Governor's office and the Chicago Police Department, "Chief Swan asked that you call him right away. He said Madam Masen called him last night and that –"

"Not to worry, Jason, I'll take care of it." I felt a little shame at forgetting my father-in-law. The poor man was probably frantic with worry. "Is he in the office already?"

"Yes, Sir!" Jason confirmed.

"Then I'll call him straightaway," I assured him as I took the stairs to the fifth floor.

Since Father's death, I had invested in a few changes of office. All of the attorneys working under myself or hired by the state shared offices in the topmost floor. The offices were situated on one side of the floor, with a receptionist's desk directly by elevators, and research and attorneys' assistants' offices to the south of the elevators. My destination, my private office, was nearest to the receptionist's kiosk.

Miss Porter was a highly efficient secretary as well as telephone operator. As the main law firm of the state, the Masen-Stanley attorneys at law had the privilege of housing its own telephone switch service.

"Miss Porter, please connect me with the Chief of Police," I directed as I passed her desk on my way to my office. She answered me with a smile and a nod before I shut my office door behind me. I waited for the telephone to ring only for a moment.

"Edward Masen speaking."

"Edward! Have you heard from the doctor or Bella? How is she?" Charlie demanded. He was as upset as I had imagined he would be.

"She's perfectly fine, Charlie. Because of the state of emergency she cannot have visitors, however. Saint Anthony's is one of the few hospitals that has been designated for normal illnesses and expectant mothers, so they do not allow for any chance of contamination. Dr. Morgan says she is closer to delivery than ever and that she and the child will be released after both of them are deemed healthy enough."

"What a relief… Is it alright to call?" he asked. I could tell now that his worries were mostly relieved, he was beginning to be frustrated with me for not calling earlier and with the hospital for not contacting him.

"Of course, Charlie. She's in the maternity ward at Saint Anthony's. Dr. Morgan is still overseeing everything and Miss Jones is staying in the room adjacent to Bella's."

"Fine. Try to keep me updated from now on, Masen! She may be your wife but she's my daughter first and foremost!"

I tried not to chuckle at the demand. I hoped that I could be as good a father.

"Of course, Sir. Should Mother and I expect you for lunch Sunday after mass?" Charlie seemed to debate it for a moment, grumbling incomprehensively.

"Yes. I wouldn't want to disappoint Elizabeth."

"Then I'll see you Sunday, Charlie. Good day."

With a chuckle I hung up the phone, pushing it to the corner of my desk. It was June. Bella was due between late June and July. I would only have to wait so long before I had her wrapped safely in my arms again. Smiling for what felt like the first time in years at the office, I took the stairs to my office and started the day's work.

I smirked as I strode into the courtroom. This was going to be pathetically easy. The defense the defendant had built was based on circumstance and little more. Furthermore, I knew what the other attorney did not truly care whether the man went to jail or not. He was court-appointed. A sham at best when it came to defending those who really deserved incarceration and worse.

The proceedings lasted only two hours. The jury ruled guilty on all charges. The accused glared daggers at me, and I was repulsed by the monstrosities that boiled just behind his shadowed eyes. The man was a rapist and a serial murderer. He had stolen young girls from orphanages, from work, from school, and had beaten, raped, and killed them with all the enjoyment of a child at the fair. I was only glad that I could help put the monster behind bars.

A smile lit my face briefly as I thought about that. Father had been right. I could serve my country, in my city, right here at home by doing what I did best. I could read people, I could see the truth easier than my colleagues, and jail the monsters that threatened to destroy people's happiness from right outside their yards. I could also defend those who needed to be defended. And above all, I could deal this justice without saying goodbye to my Bella. And God only knew – if I had not found her, I could be one of the belatedly reported dead in the _Tribune_.

I would not have been able to create the life that now grew inside her womb.

My heart warmed at the thought of my wife, round with my child, glowing with it. As soon as she was home with me again, with him, my life would once again be complete. Damn the war. Damn the rest of the world. So long as I had her – my angel – and our child, I was content.

The day's work done, I set about tidying my office. My afternoon call to Bella had been reassuring. She seemed to be healthy, and the doctors had spoken to me after Bella was finished telling me about her morning. They had said that they projected her release for as soon as the baby was born.

I had my doubts, but hearing the news was far more than welcome. Even if it was a long shot in the dark, I could at least have something to hope for. The sooner I had her in my arms, the better.

At four thirty I hailed a cab for home. The cabbie looked a little clammy and I wondered if it would be better for my health if I just walked. It would not do for me to become ill when Bella and our child depended on my health for survival. I had the man pull over six blocks away from my home. If he was indeed sick, he could not come in close contact with my home.

Mother met me on the front porch with her usual placid smile. I noticed with a little sadness that the light in her eyes had faded since Father's death. At the top of the stairs I bent to kiss her cheek and held the door open for her.

"How was your day, Mother? Did you call Bella?" I asked. She nodded and I smiled as the expression on her face changed. Bella must be well.

"She was quite excited. Apparently Dr. Morgan said that she should be going into labor sooner rather than later. He said the baby should be fine, perhaps a little on the small side, but still healthy."

"That's excellent news," I enthused. But Mother's lips tightened by the tiniest degree in the corners, and her eyes became shadowed. I frowned as I imagined what she would suggest. She did not want Bella to come home after the baby was born, that much was certain.

"Yes, excellent news. Yet… Eddie, darling, do you not agree that she and the baby _would _be safer staying in Saint Anthony's until this epidemic dies down just a little? What I have read thus far suggests that the young are the most vulnerable, now. Young men and women, such as Bella and yourself."

"I shall consult with Dr. Morgan on that matter, when the time comes. But for now, I see no reason to worry Bella any more than necessary."

"Of course, Eddie darling."

I followed Mother to the kitchen and sat at the table, thanking her for the meal she had already set out. She sat across from me as delicately as ever. I said grace. We began eating in silence, but I knew it would not last long. Mother's face was too composed, too tense. She had something else she wanted to say but did not know quite how to word it.

"You can tell me anything you like, Mother. You know I will always listen to your advice. You have never led me awry before." It was hard not to sound amused. Usually Mother spoke before thinking the words through all the way. This sort of behavior was suited more to my Bella.

"I received a letter from your aunt Emily," she said carefully. Whatever it is she wanted, she did not want to disclose completely. "I was contemplating making a visit. We could both use a vacation. At least until Bella's delivery." She kept her eyes carefully guarded as she met my gaze. My eyes narrowed just slightly.

"You want us to leave Chicago?"

"I cannot hide anything from you, now can I, my clever boy?" She sounded disappointed though her smile was rueful.

"Absolutely not, Mother. If you wish to go, you may, of course. I'll secure a car for you or a train ticket. Whichever you prefer, but Bella needs to know I am here," I said with conviction. As far as I was concerned, the matter was closed. A few moments passed in near-silence. Perhaps if I played the piano for her later, she would relax. I understood her worries, of course. She had said it earlier – _The young are most vulnerable. Young people, such as Bella and yourself._

"…Why will you not consider it, Edward?" she exclaimed, suddenly sharp. It had been some time since she had spoken with me thus.

"Because, Mother, you are allowing yourself to be swayed by fear. Both you and I are very well aware of the disease, its symptoms, and how to avoid it. There is no legitimate reason for us to leave now. Perhaps after Bella gives birth, we all will go the country until it dies down in the city."

"What about your father, Edward? He was just as clean as you or I– What can you say about that?"

"Dumb luck. Or lack thereof in Father's case…"

"It is dangerous, Edward. Either you or I or the both of us are going to be exposed to it sooner or later. Why not remove ourselves from the danger and leave Bella safely at the hospital until the mess cleans itself up a bit?"

"You must me joking, Mother. If you think I would abandon my wife and child… You are the one who told me I was abandoning my family to go to war. And now you tell me that I _must_ abandon my love and our son or daughter to protect you and I? Are you insane, mother?" My voice had risen in my fury. I stood, nearly knocking over my chair in the process, and abandoned my half-eaten meal. Elizabeth stood and followed me, her face flushing scarlet in her own anger.

"No, Edward! I tell you to give your whole family a chance for survival. Have you noticed that the families to our right and left have both disappeared? Almost a third of Chicago's population is reported ill or dead already!" she screamed, approaching hysterics. I strode to my mother's side and embraced her gently.

"Listen to me, Mother. We'll be fine. Nothing can hurt us as long as we remain positive and continue doing what we have been. Stay inside. I shall have the groceries delivered to the cellar door if that makes you feel more comfortable. But you are safe, as am I. After Bella gives birth, all of us will adjourn to the country. Until then, I know we can stay healthy, Mother. Do not let yourself be swayed by mass hysteria."

I stood and held her for a while. She sobbed into my shirt and I rubbed her back. I comforted her as best I could while trying to convince myself of what I had said. I knew, however, that this would not be the end of the argument.

But from then on, Mother followed what I had suggested. She stopped shopping. I placed regular orders at the grocer for deliveries of produce and canned goods. Elizabeth boiled or baked everything. We never ate anything raw. Not even fruit. We stopped going to Mass. Instead, Charlie joined us for prayer on Sunday mornings after which we would have lunch together in the back garden.

At work, I began noticing evidence to support my mother's worries. In the research offices, employees stopped showing up. There was one afternoon that we had to call an ambulance for a delirious clerk convinced that he was on fire. From the feel of his forehead, someone else would think so too, according to some other clerks. That one disappeared not long after, as well. The police department had the same problems. Charlie eventually received an order from the Governor that he was to stay home. He received reports from deputies via telephone or telegram. Yet despite all of the evidence to the contrary, the _Tribune_ still preceded its death and illness reports with the city health officials' assurances that "the influenza matter is well in hand."

Still, refused to let myself be taken in by the fear. I was careful. I made sure my employees and coworkers were just as careful. If someone had a cough, I demanded that they wear a facemask or stay home. Sneezes and coughs were tolerated only into a handkerchief or an elbow. But outside my offices, the disease continued to spread. It seemed to be gaining velocity, as well.

My court days were less and less, as the criminals I would have put in prison often died waiting for their arraignments. The juries that would try them refused to assemble; such was the fear of infection. Police arrested fewer, both because of fear of infection and the decrease in number of officers. It helped, too, that the criminals were not immune. If anything, crime rates decreased as those that would have raped, murdered, or stolen died off.

It was Wednesday July 24, and I was staring murderously at the black wooden phone sitting inoffensively on the corner of my desk. Most of the office had left for the day to attend the Patriotic, pre-Independence Day Parade. I could hear the brass band through the open window, and the sound of people shouting the words to the songs. I had no desire to join in the festivities. There was only one sound I wanted to hear at this moment.

My child's cry.

At four-o-nine this morning, I had received a call claiming that Bella was going into labor. Mother and I had driven in my car to Saint Anthony's to wait. A nurse had promised us that she would parade my newborn child by the windowed doors leading into the treatment wards. But after being in the damned waiting room, staring hatefully at those cursed doors while I wore a path in the scratched wooden floor for nearly six hours, Mother finally managed to convince me to go to work. To take my mind of things. She promised she would call as soon as the baby was delivered so we could see him or her together. It was now past six. Over fourteen hours since the phone rang.

If only a breeze would come through the window. The excitement of the parade and the heat of July made the air feel unbearably heavy. My gaze returned to the newspaper I had been reading as a distraction. Apparently someone named Mehmed VI had succeeded the previous Ottoman Emperor. Perhaps the power shift would allow the Brits to make more headway in the East.

I imagined the surprise on my Bella's face should our child in fact turn out to be a little girl. Perfect and beautiful with dark hair, chocolate eyes, and satiny ivory skin. I imagined the joy on Charlie's face, on Elizabeth's, on Bella's.

The shrill ring of the phone jerked me from my fantasy and I scrambled forward to yank the thing to my face.

"Edward-Masen-speaking-Masen-Stanley-Firm," I gasped into the microphone.

"Mr. Masen, Madam Masen on the line for you. Would you like to accept the call?"

"Yes!" I shouted impatiently at the operator. I did not have the time to feel guilty about being so impolite.

"Edward, dear, come quickly! Sister Agatha said that the baby's coming!"

"I'll be there as soon as I can!" I rushed, trying to keep from shouting. A blast of brass music came through the window. Damn. The streets would be too crowded for the car. I would have to run a few streets down and hail a cab.

I slammed the receiver back onto the bracket without a final goodbye, running to the door, barely managing to grab my jacket and hat in my haste. Half way to the fourth floor I remembered my brief case and had to turn around. I made it to the first floor in less than a minute, and set down the sidewalk in a sprint, not bothering to lock up.

The streets were inundated with patriots. A marching band was passing, and children were running through the crowd, some undoubtedly pick-pocketing the celebrating masses. I pushed my way through the crowds, uncaring of the angry looks and curses I received. Finally I broke away from them, sprinting flat-out three blocks, holding my hat on my head the entire time. Finally I stopped upon seeing a cab, jumping out into the street in front of it. It screeched to a halt, honking at me angrily. I ignored the sound and yanked the door open, sliding in and pushing a five-dollar bill into the cabbie's hand.

"Saint Anthony's on the double! I'll give you twenty dollars if you get me there fast!"

The cabbie sped off immediately, swerving around other cars as we raced to our destination.

I opened the door before he had stopped completely, throwing money behind me as I ran to the doors. I fumbled with the handle in my nervousness, cursing when it refused to open quickly. After what felt like twenty minutes I finally managed to yank the stupid thing open and barrel into the waiting area, startling many of the people sitting there.

"Eddie!" Mother cried from near the doors. She was sitting in the chair closest to the treatment facility entrance, wringing her gloved hands. I went to her side, too excited to sit.

"What have they said? Is she doing well?"

"They haven't come out except to tell me that the baby's nearly here."

"When was that?" I begged, running a hand through my hair nervously. It was habit that I had fought to control upon entering manhood, but frankly I did not care if anyone saw me in a state of dishevelment.

"Nearly twenty minutes ago. It took me a while to get to a telephone. I had to make a sizable donation to the poor box."

"You bribed a nun?" I asked distractedly.

"No, dear, I made a donation to the poor," Elizabeth corrected diplomatically.

"How long do you think it will be?" I groaned, unable to keep from pacing, glancing every other turn at the doors.

"I don't know, dear."

We fell into silence as I wore a trail into the floor. My shoes tapped against the hardwood in an angry tattoo. _Please, God, let them be safe_, I begged with all my heart. Mother had taken out her rosary and was praying under her breath as well. A thought occurred to me.

"Did you call Charlie?" I asked, fearing the retribution if no one had notified him.

"Of course, Dear. But he's quite a bit older than you it will take him longer to arrive."

"Mr. Masen? Madam Masen?" A nurse called, walking through the waiting room doors. She wore a tired smile.

"Sister Agatha!" cried Mother, rushing to take the girl's hands in hers.

"Miss Jones is going to walk Edward Anthony Masen III by the doors in a moment. I'm sorry you cannot hold him yet, but he and Bella need to stay with us until they're both strong enough to withstand infection," Sister Agatha explained as she led us both to stand by the windowed doors.

"I have a son?" I whispered, ignoring everything else she had said. My eyes had found Miss Jones walking toward us from the Maternity ward. I nearly pressed my nose to glass as I zeroed in on the little bundle wrapped in her arms. I could almost discern the pink face swaddled in the white cotton blanket.

"Oh, Edward…" gasped my mother at my side. She clutched my arm tightly, and I did not care that I lost the feeling in my fingers. Behind us, I registered Charlie's shouts as he demanded to know where Bella was, and then felt him press up behind us to see through the glass as well.

Miss Jones stood as close as she could to the locked door and held up the little bundle. Bronze curls circled a plump face. The tiny eyes were the same shape as Bella's, as well as the perfect lips. I noted my ears. Charlie's curls. What appeared to be the beginnings of my nose.

"My son," I breathed reverently. I worshipped the little cotton-wrapped angel. I knew Charlie and Elizabeth were crying at my flanks. I felt moisture on my cheeks and knew I was as well.

"And Bella?" I heard myself asking, "Is Bella alright?" I did not turn to look as Sister Agatha answered me.

"She's resting. She did miraculously well for a first-time mother. Congratulations to you all."

She left quietly, leaving us to marvel out the little boy that already had us entrapped, wrapped around his little fingers completely. The baby slept in Miss Jones' arms, and she seemed just fine with standing there and rocking the little boy. After an hour, she turned and left. Charlie, Mother, and I started to protest, but before we could complain to the receptionist Miss Jones was wheeling Bella, baby in arms, to the door.

"I love you!" she called, the sound significantly muffled by the thick door.

"As I you, Bella!" I called back, unashamed, smiling triumphantly, adoringly, at my beautiful wife. She held our son so protectively. I knew both of them would be strong and well enough to leave, soon.

"We're taking you to the country after you recover some, Bella!" said Elizabeth, smiling at her grandson.

"I cannot wait!" she called back. "We have to go now… Will you come visit tomorrow?" she asked hopefully. Sister Agatha appeared at her side and shook her head sadly. Bella worried her bottom lip but quickly recovered. "I'll see you soon! I love you all!"

Sister Agatha and Miss Jones rolled her away and I sighed, turning to smile at my mother and father-in-law. I saw it in their eyes. The elation. The joy of having a grandchild had erased the fear from their visages. Only happiness and hope remained.

. . . . . . .

A/N: Haroo! Pass around the cigars Edward and Bella fans! I know. It's a boy. Bella was right. I'm going to warn you to be aware of the date. It's July, Edward dies in August at the height of the Spanish Influenza pandemic. Get your tissue boxes ready. The next chapter probably won't be posted for a while, but of course, your reviews will get it up faster. Thanks everyone who has followed this story and to everyone who reviews. But it still makes me sad that only 27 people have reviewed thus far. Please feed my muse. Will work for food and all that. Happy reading!


	12. Fate

A/N: Yay! Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Keep it up! I started this as soon as I saw the +7 reviews! Some of you are probably wondering how I'm going to keep this cannon and still kill Edward, make Bella a Vampire, etc. I'm not going to tell you what happens to E.J. just yet, but Bella will be changed, although later than Edward. I hope you like how I do it. I'm deviating slightly from cannon with how Bella gets changed, obviously. Because even though Edward has a love to last infinity, I don't think he could not stop his bloodlust as a newborn. Looking at his past, he actually has one of the dirtiest track records of all the Cullens. True, he picked out the bad guys, but he still feasted on human blood.

Anyway. You'll see what happens. I think you'll enjoy the ride.

Calibeachbabe: The survival rate for people once they contracted the influenza wasn't too long. Elizabeth got it around the same time as Edward. Since big cities were in a state of quarantine (sick people separated indefinitely from healthy people) we can assume that they got it around the same time because they're at the hospital together.

Disclaimer: I never have and never will own anything mentioned in SM's Twilight. I am but a poor student. She is a God. Enjoy.

Warning: Break out the tissues now, girls.

. . . . . . . . . . .

Chapter Twelve: Fate

_. . . .Part One: Edward. . . ._

Elizabeth, Charlie, and I rode home together in a cab. All of us wore relieved smiles on our faces. Elizabeth still cried quietly beside me. Charlie occasionally patted her hand. It was hard to focus on either of them. I was far too absorbed in the fact that _I was a father_.

Charlie's slap on the shoulder brought me out of my head.

"You've done well, son," he said proudly. I fought the moisture in my eyes at the words. Generally speaking, Charlie stringently gave no acknowledgement to the fact that Bella and I were adults, and as married adults, had been _intimate_.

"Thank you, Charlie." I knew my voice was heavy with emotion. Abruptly, I was immeasurably grateful to Mother for trying to convince me to remain a civilian. No triumph in battle could compare to the feeling in my chest now.

The cab dropped Charlie at his home on 41st street. Mother and I continued home on foot, both of us smiling ear to ear.

"I'm proud of you, darling," she said softly into the darkness. The streetlamps only threw her delicate features into sharp relief. I could tell where her nose and mouth were, and see the profile of her face, but little more. Only her voice could belie her tears.

"You and Bella both… I know your father is so proud, too. I'm a grandmother."

"Congratulations, Mother," I said with a grin. Feeling as if I were about to explode from excitement, I swept her up into my arms and spun her around, running pell-mell down the street while she screeched.

"Edward! Let me down this instant! What in God's name are you doing? This is most unseemly, Eddie dear!"

But she was laughing, and I was laughing with her.

The next morning, Mother and I left the confines of the house together. I cancelled all business at the firm as a holiday in celebration of my son's birth. It wouldn't slow work any, considering the number of people that had been reported being infirm (either from real sickness or fear of becoming sick).

So we strolled up Elm and down to the numbered avenues in search of a furniture shop. Mother had long ago donated my bassinet to the poor, and Charlie had not thought to bring the bassinet Bella used as a baby to Chicago. I shuddered to think of my son sleeping in one of the fabric slings that passed as bassinets at the hospital.

The store was mostly empty except for one other woman wearing a cloth mask over her mouth and nose. I nodded politely to the proprietor. This was not my first visit of course. Junior already had a hand-carved cherry wood crib waiting for him at home. He had fresh linens embroidered with ducks and rabbits. He had a rocking horse and a stuffed Benjamin bunny. Miss Potter's bunny books were lined neatly against his windowsill.

I spotted what I wanted quickly enough. The wickerwork bassinet was lined with soft linen cushioning and stood about three feet tall with its platform. Perfect for travel and for the hospital. Elizabeth cut me off before I could go to the register, holding up a white linen skirt for the bassinet.

"Is that really necessary, Mother?" I asked in amusement. Hopefully Bella and baby would only be in the hospital a little longer before leaving with us for the country.

"Of course it is! And we should take her the christening gown and the other clothes, as well," she said with a nod, as if that ended the matter. I humored her, spending the extra six dollars on the bed skirt. We went grocery shopping after that, picking out our meals for the next week or so. Mother bustled around happily in her walking dress, the picture of feminine stateliness, pinching that tomato and tapping that watermelon. It was refreshing to see her out and about after so long cowering in fear of the damned flu.

I thought mostly about my son. My grin would not fade as I thought about teaching him baseball, counting stars with him, catching fireflies in the summer, building him a clubhouse. Camping. Fishing. Hunting. Horseback riding, though I knew cars were the future of transportation. I would teach him how to drive, too, of course. I, in my father's tradition, would teach him how to make breakfast, and for Bella's birthday we'd bring her a tray of her favorites together.

The few strangers we passed stared at me in incredulity, as if to say, "What do you have to smile so openly about? Can't you see we're miserable?"

And with my impudent smiles I answered, "Life, Dear Friends, nothing more."

…..

The following day we took the bassinet and the clothes to the hospital. As when Eddie was first born, they wheeled Bella and baby out to just behind the locked windowed doors. She smiled and made him wave. He blinked a little confusedly and I felt nothing but joy at Bella's radiance and our little son's tiny face. Sister Agatha met us in the waiting area after Bella and Eddie left to take their things from Elizabeth and I. She told us that she would scrub everything thoroughly before allowing it to go anywhere near the baby, and I thanked her for it.

"When do you want your son to be christened?" she asked me as I was preparing to leave with Mother.

"As soon as possible," she answered before I could speak. I frowned but held my tongue. If it would comfort her, then I was willing to miss it. I knew that Sister Agatha could have Junior christened in the hospital's chapel.

"Then I'll get that gown washed and pressed by tomorrow. I'll let Mrs. Masen know that you've agreed to proceed. She did not want to decide the matter without your input," the nun explained. Elizabeth thanked her and we both left in bright spirits.

My bed felt far too empty without Bella's presence. It seemed, as soon as I felt that I was ready to be her husband first and foremost and grieving son after, fate would take my wife from me temporarily and leave me at odd ends.

The morning could not come sooner. The office was even less populated than it had been the day before. But those who had shown up were as excited as I was to be back at work, even if they were still afraid of sickness. Cigars were passed left and right. Of course, with the deficit of cases in the work queue there was more than enough time for friendly banter.

"How's Missus Bella, Mr. Masen? Wot's the baby look like?" asked one of the girls in the research room.

Vanessa was maybe sixteen, full of life, and newly engaged to be married in a year. Her husband had an education up to the third grade. She had managed to go to public school until the eighth grade, and was rather adept at fishing through lists of names and addresses of witnesses.

"He would barely fit in the palms of my hands," I said in quiet reverence. "He has my father-in-law's curls, but my hair color. The shape of his eyes is the same as Bella's, and his mouth. But he has my ears and nose. He's a handsome little boy." The pride I exuded made the others laugh.

"Lucky you are to have them both at the hospital for now. Both 'ah my boys were born at home and the crying like you wouldn't believe it, Mr. Masen!" cajoled Amsel Barkovich. "They only quit their squalling to drink mother's milk and sleep!"

"Oh, no, Amsel. I'd much prefer to have Junior at home. Bella says he sleeps regularly, just as before his birth, and he does not cry much when he needs care, either."

"Lucky bastard then, 'ent ya, Master Masen." Joseph O'Kierney clapped his hand on my shoulder as he passed, carrying a stack of documents. "My litter still doesn't know when to hush their noise and they're nearly working age, now."

"It is curious, isn't it?" I mused. "Mother always told me I was an outright beast as an infant-in-arms. Crying day and night. Colicky, probably. Yet my son hardly lets out a peep."

"It's a little scary, _I_ think."

The voice from the door made me shudder. It was Newton. Of course Newton would pick this of all days to torment me with his ugliness. I affixed a polite smile on my face before turning to look at him. Apparently Jessica Stanley's dowry had last him this long. He wore a twelve-dollar suit, at least.

"May I help you in any way, Newton?" …Perhaps in finding the door. I was quite capable of picking him up by his shirt collar and throwing him bodily from the premises if it came to that. I smirked, finding I enjoyed the idea immensely.

Newton stumbled forward, coughing. Spittle flew from his mouth and his chest heaved after each one. The people nearest him quickly dispersed, backing away, leaving a wide gap around him.

"Your dad owes me money, Masen," he gasped, wiping a line of phlegm from his mouth.

His face, upon closer inspection, was shadowed with stubble. Darkening of the fabric at his underarms, chest, and back, and behind his knees revealed that he had been perspiring profusely for some time now.

"Newton, my father's been dead for months," I said cautiously.

He was delirious. There wasn't any conscious thought behind his crazed eyes. He stumbled closer, and fell forward, vomiting violently over the hardwood floor. A couple of the ladies squealed in disgust, many had fled the room already.

"Jackson, call an ambulance," I cut through the uproar. "Mr. Netwon needs a hospital. Tell them his home address. His mistress may be infected, too."

I arrived home at nearly eight. The doctor at Mercy hospital had called twice to ensure that I sent all of my employees home and closed up shop. I would not reopen the office until a week had gone by without any of them falling ill. I phoned Charlie upon walking in the door, ignoring Mother's questions for now.

"Chief Swan," he answered.

"Charlie, it is I, Edward," I said wearily. He immediately became more alert.

"What's the matter, son?"

"Nothing. Bella is well, as always, but there was an incident at the office today. I'm not going to be there this week. The head surgeon at Mercy hospital asked me to place a voluntary quarantine on the building for at least a week. I have already told my employees to stay home for the week, with vacation pay. I will be staying home as well. So I hope you will understand if I ask you to stay away this Sunday. Bella would never forgive me if I exposed you to illness."

"Oh. Of course, Edward. Are you alright?"

"I believe so. Unfortunately, I happened to be standing closest to the individual in question…"

"I'm sure you'll be fine, Edward."

"Of course I shall. I have to take care of Bella and Eddie, after all. Goodnight, Charlie."

"Goodnight."

I hung the receiver back in its bracket and turned to face my mother. As I expected, her fine features had twisted into fear and anger.

"Edward, Explain!"

And so I did. She eventually calmed herself and we both agreed to stay in for the remainder of the week.

Still, I managed to sneak out and visit the hospital during the evenings, after tea. Mother always took a nap and I would jog to the end of the block, hail a cab, and go stare at my beautiful son and wife until suppertime, then sneak back in under the pretense of just being outside for a moment.

All for the sake of keeping Mother calm. No matter what, I wouldn't let fear hold me from my son. Besides, even if I was infected he was safe from behind the glass-paned doors.

...

_. . . .Part Two: Elizabeth. . . ._

...

I woke Monday, August 14, to hear the sounds of retching from down the hall. I alighted from my bed as quickly as I could, slipping on my dressing gown and slippers before padding down the hallway to Bella and Edward's room. I knocked several times before pushing open the door, calling for my son.

"Edward? Eddie, dear, are you quite alright?"

Cold fear gripped me when I received no answer save a choked sort of gurgle. I rushed into the bathroom only to find Edward draped over the basin of the toilet. He had taken on a bluish tinge to his skin. His nightshirt clung to his body with sweat. The sick in the basin was flecked with blood. I covered my mouth and nose with my kerchief and squared my shoulders. I tied the cloth about my face and pulled my boy up. His weight, so much greater than when he was a babe in my arms, dragged on me_._ I half expected him to resist, but Edward seemed aware enough to help me heave his body to a mostly-standing position.

I pulled his arm over my shoulders and directed him towards the door. Huffing and beginning to sweat under the heat and weight of him, I somehow managed to half drag my son down the stairs and to the porch. I sat him as gently as I could with his head leaning against one of the wooden posts before running to the street. It was early, and I could not see any cabs.

"Damn," I expelled as I turned on my heel, going back into the house.

I rifled through Edward's bedside drawer until I found the key to the ford car parked by the walk. Getting the boy inside it was little more difficult. It took a full ten minutes to get him lifted into passenger seat, his legs pushed in almost as an afterthought. I knew he would forgive me for any stiffness later.

I stared at the steering wheel in frustration. I had seen Edward start the contraption hundreds of times. Finally I remembered that I first had to crank the motor. Pulling on the kidskin gloves I kept in the dash, I circled around to the front and cranked it vigorously, knowing I probably did so in excess. The beast started easily enough then, and I shifted experimentally. Eventually I determined which gear was required for forward movement and pressed the pedal to the floor.

The trip to Mercy hospital was – thankfully – uneventful. I left the car on the curb outside the hospital entrance, and drew enough attention with my questionable parking ability that several nurses came to my aid in pulling Edward from the car. They all wore wool nose-and-mouth masks.

Mercy hospital was a horror. Inside, gurneys laden with dead and set to rotting bodies were left lining the halls. Some were stacked double, the victims' skin varying in shades of death. Swallowing back bile as I followed the nurses who pushed my son's gurney, I made a silent prayer that my boy would be protected from this horror. He was a healthy boy. He had only been coughing a little before. And then, not often at all.

Had he been hiding headaches and fever from me? Surely he would not lie…

But he would. I knew the answer immediately. Edward was just like his father. Anthony had always done all he could to spare me from worry and pain. And now, it could cost my son his life. Cure or not, there was a slight survival rate, with proper treatment. But now…

If it would take a miracle, that is what I vowed to find. My Edward, of all people, deserved to be spared from this fate.

The room in which the nurses left Edward and myself was no larger than a broom closet. Two other hospital beds were pushed against the other wall. They had assigned me to the bed adjacent to Edward's. Since I had been exposed, I would be quarantined. They saw me as a potential body.

It infuriated me that these people were so intent on letting the infected die. Not I. I refused to succumb. And so would my boy.

It had been an hour now since they brought us, and Edward still suffered from his fever. I pushed away from my bed forcefully and stood over him, peeling back his soaked nightclothes gently before tossing them aside. I assumed someone would incinerate them later. A water basin sat between each bed. I soaked a facecloth and methodically wrung it out until it barely dripped.

Edward's forehead burned like fire beneath my fingertips. I slowly and gently sponged away sweat with the cool cloth at his forehead, neck, underarms, knees, and elbows. Stopped. Rewet the cloth, wrung it out, repeated the process. By the fifth repetition, Edward felt only a little cooler. Finally, he seemed to sleep peacefully. Occasionally, he would cough and wake for a few moments, but he was never lucid. So I sang to him, like I always had when he was sick as a child.

"Oh, who will plow the field, or who will sell the corn/Oh, who will wash the sheep, and have them nicely shorn?/The stag that's in the haggard, unthrashed it may remain/Since Johnny went a-thrashing the dirty king of Spain

"And the girls from the Boyne, in sorrow may retire/ The piper and his bellows, may go home and blow the fire/ For Johnny, lovely Johnny, is sailing o'er the main/ Along with other patriots, to fight the King of Spain/ The boys will sorely miss him when mun-a-hoor comes around/And grieve that their bold captain is nowhere to be found/ The Peelers "roughed" and idle against their will and grain/ For the valiant boy who gives them work now peels the King of Spain

"If cruel fate will not permit our Johnny to return/ His heavy loss, we Bantry girls will never cease to mourn/ We'll resign ourselves to our sad lot and die in grief and pain/Since Johnny died for Ireland's pride in the foreign land of Spain"

I laughed a little at the irony. The Spanish Influenza now threatened my boy's life just as surely as the Spaniards threatened the lives of my ancestors, years ago. Tears threatened to spill over my cheeks so I inhaled deeply, closing my eyes against the painful scene before me, steeling myself for the future.

If anyone would die, it would be I, not he. My angelic lad would not be doomed to one of the freshly dug mass-graves, to be forgotten, buried among the rapists, cheats, and woman-beaters he had fought so hard to jail.

The opening of the door for the first time in nearly two hours startled me. But years of practice allowed me to hide it well behind a shifting of my shoulders, adjusting my shawl rather than jumping in alarm.

"Madam, would you know which of these is newly arrived?" asked the doctor. He was incredibly beautiful for a man, and for a moment I found myself distracted by the honey blonde hair and his long-lashed, dark, amber eyes.

"My son and I both arrived early this morning, Doctor," I answered a little more sharply than I intended. This man voluntarily exposed himself to the dead and dying every day. His appearance was a testament to his courage. He was not my enemy. He would try to help.

Attempting to convince myself of this, I gestured to Edward. He had begun sweating again. I immediately went to the washbasin upon noticing this, taking up the cloth again. The doctor waited for me to say more while I began the methodical process of wiping sweat from Edward's body while simultaneously cooling him.

"His vomiting woke me this morning. When I went to assure myself of his health, I found him in a state of delusion. He has not been lucid since some time after dinner the night before."

The doctor watched silently as I continued the ritual, stopping after he seemed to have cooled some. I left the blankets off him, wiping down his chest and arms with the nearly dry cloth to keep him from getting a chill. I met the doctor's gaze and immediately felt my ire rise.

"Why do you look upon me with pity, sir? Do you know for whom you supposedly care? Do you suggest that what I do is in vain? Look at the face of my son and tell me that you have given up on his life! I shall leave this moment if that is the case. I shall return to my home and care for him myself, your protocols and quarantine be damned!"

The room was deadly quiet. Even the other sick, worse off than my Edward, stilled their coughs and whimpers while they waited for the doctor's answer. I glared up at him and drew myself to my full height. The man with the golden eyes looked down at me in surprise. His chiseled mouth had fallen open and his eyebrows had risen considerably.

"I… Of course I have not given up on your son, Madam. Please forgive me for making you think such a thing. Of course I will do everything I can for him. It's the least I have ever done for my patients."

"Who are you, exactly?" I said a little less harshly, though the bite still clung to my tone. I felt hot. The room was sweltering.

"My name is Carlisle Cullen, Madam. May I inquire as to your name?"

"Elizabeth Masen."

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Masen. Your son would not be Edward Masen, would he?" the doctor asked. His brow was furrowed in worry.

I frowned.

"Yes. But why do you ask?"

Dr. Cullen's features smoothed over automatically, almost suspiciously quickly.

"Ah, I've only heard of his late Father's law firm. My condolences on his passing… He had a reputation as a brilliant lawyer, a tradition your son is following it seems."

I could not help but smile at his use of the present progressive tense. My son _is_ becoming a brilliant lawyer.

"Of course. Anthony would be most proud of our boy."

Carlisle smiled at my tender expression. I began the process of mopping up Edward's sweat again. He was too warm…

"Is there anything to do about the fever?" I asked quietly.

"I'm afraid not, Mrs. Masen."

"What _can_ you do?"

"Depressingly little, madam," answered the doctor dejectedly. His eyes reflected the pain I felt at his words. "Only keep him comfortable as possible and administer penicillin. It has little effect, however. The best I have been able to do is give a little gin, or other spirits, for the cough…"

"Perhaps we both could use some gin at this crossroads," I suggested.

The doctor flashed me a white smile and nodded, leaving for a moment. He returned with a tray laden with cheap gin. It would feel warm enough, though. And I would be able to sleep. Perhaps my Edward would stop coughing so painfully.

I shook him into half-wakefulness carefully and spooned gin into his mouth. Edward swallowed and sputtered a little, but his chest relaxed and he leaned less fretfully against the pillows. I downed my tumbler-full in one gulp. The other patients, or at least the one who was able, took a couple of sips, then a stronger drink. The other moaned depressingly and rolled over without looking at it. The doctor poured me another shot of the vile stuff.

"To your health," he said reservedly. I graced him with a defiant smile before tossing back the second shot.

"To Edward's health and yours, Doctor Carlisle Cullen."

. . . . . . .

A/N: Happy reading.


	13. Worrying, Always Worrying

A/N: So. We've all read the _Twilight _saga, hopefully. If you haven't, please don't tell me you'll make me cry. It's beautiful and far better than the movies. The books always are… Anyway, I decided to skip ahead a bit because assuming you've read SM's _Twilight_ you know all about Edward's death and Elizabeth's. For those of you who don't, there will be a chapter that reveals that sort of thing coming up. For now, though, this is where we're picking up. Thank you everyone who reviewed.

Remember, There will be citrus after 50 reviews. Happy reading!

Disclaimer: I never have and never will own anything mentioned in SM's Twilight. I am but a poor student. She is a God. Enjoy.

. . . . . .

Chapter Thirteen: Worrying, Always Worrying

_. . . . . . . . Bella. . . . . . . . ._

I watched in fascination as Eddie's lilac colored eyelids scrunched into wrinkles and twitched. His little mouth puckered slightly and his round, rosy cheeks puffed out while he stretched one way, then the other, finally lifting his tiny arms up just slightly and flailing his little fists. I leaned over the side of my bed and scooped him gently out of the white whicker bassinet Edward had brought shortly following Eddie's birth. Sister Agatha and Miss Jones had rubbed it down with dry soap before they had let me use it for the baby. I rocked little E.J. slowly, and he quickly calmed down, returning to easy sleep.

How in the world could I be so lucky? In my arms, I held the most beautiful creature on the planet – and even more of a miracle – he was mine and Edward's to share. I marveled a little at the situation I found myself in. He was so tiny, so helpless, yet it seemed that my happiness depended entirely on his. Last night, I had seen him smile for the first time while I hummed one of the songs Edward wrote for me from our courtship. My baby. My little Edward Junior.

I could not believe that it was August already. My little one would be a month old, soon. Yet his father had only seen him twice since he brought the bassinet two days after Eddie's birth. Trying hard to control the fear and worry that threatened to overtake me, I held Eddie closer. His rosebud mouth was open in a perfect O. I placed my fingertip gently over his mouth, feeling for suction. It seemed he wasn't so asleep after all. I chuckled and undid the old-fashion wrap maternity gown's bodice, cradling Eddie so he could eat.

I looked out the window again, sighing at the sunshine. There had to be another reason for Edward's absence. I ran through my head, trying to come up a logical explanation other than _that_. Perhaps a case..? No, too many people were ill to afford Edward. And the majority of criminals that needed convicting were already half way to one of the crematoriums or mass graves designed to hide away the bodies before the hysteria could spread even more. I pulled my lower lip between my teeth, chewing it as I contemplated the possibilities.

I could not imagine that anything less than life-threatening would keep my Edward away from the hospital waiting room. And he would have to be in the grave or lashed to a bed to not call, and there definitely had not been any calls.

I wondered who had fallen ill that made Edward vulnerable?

Elizabeth?

Charlie?

I shuddered to think that it could be Edward himself who had contracted what they were now calling the Spanish Influenza.

My hands shook slightly and I shifted Eddie slightly. His wispy bronze curls shone fire-red in the sunlight streaming through the window.

_God, please protect my husband_, I begged silently. But whoever had exposed him – for there could be no other possibility that would keep him from our son – was my loss as well. Who else was closer to Edward than vivacious Elizabeth and my father Charlie?

_God, please protect my loved ones_.

The days passed slowly. I worried more and more even as I rejoiced over my little boy's loveliness. He smiled at me often and made gurgling sounds that melted my heart. His eyes, though they had the same exact shape as mine, were darkening from ambiguous blue to clear, jade green. When he got older they would be as brilliant as Edward's emerald eyes. E.J. was strangely calm, for a newborn. He rarely cried, even when he needed my care. He fidgeted, and I learned to tell from his slightly annoyed expression (it reminded me so much of Edward when he was frustrated) and the set of his little lips when he needed changing, burping, and feeding. The nurses had become quite taken with him as well.

Edward Anthony Masen III had been christened two days after his birth, in the chapel housed in the bowels of Saint Anthony's hospital. It made me cry that my Edward could not see it, but I knew he would be proud. Eddie wore the gown Elizabeth and I embroidered and mended. As with the bassinet, it was washed thoroughly before being allowed to touch the baby. But still, it was a comfort to me.

I only hoped that the comfort I felt was not false.

As the days flew by, I became more restless. No one answered the telephone at the Masen residence. I called Charlie, but he could not locate them. We could only assume that Edward and Elizabeth had either left for the country or gone into a hospital. Charlie hoped they had checked into a hospital because of an emergency. He mentioned some business about Michael Newton vomiting in Edward's office. I hoped that he and Elizabeth had left Eddie and myself here until the number of bodies went down. I would be safe in Saint Anthony's. On the outside, I knew people were not as fortunate. I hoped that they had left Chicago without me.

Eddie's first month passed easily. Finally, I was well enough to be released. Charlie met me in the waiting room. Both of us wore cloth facemasks. I had gently draped a handkerchief over Eddie's mouth and nose. It was not until I reached the car that I realized that Charlie had no intention of taking me back to my home on Elm Street.

"It's too dangerous, Bella!" he shouted at me, purple in the face as he drove the road that led out of Chicago, into the country. "I'm taking you to Angela Corner's. You can't stay in the city with your baby. You'll both fall ill and then what will you do? I can't loose you, too, Bells," he finished softly. His eyes were hard and determined.

And because I knew that he was right – right that Edward would grieve if I died and that the little one in my arms was dependent on me – I held Eddie closer and sobbed into his blanket.

It was nighttime when we arrived at the farm seven miles south of Tinley Park. Angela had lit an oil lamp over the porch. Ben walked out to help us carry in Eddie's and my things. Neither of them commented on my tear-streaked cheeks, only quietly helping me settle into the guest room. Angela was very round, probably on her sixth month.

"You look lovely, Bella," she said once I had finished unpacking my embarrassingly large collection of dresses. I was glad Angela did most of it for me, as I fed and rocked Eddie. He had picked up on my mood and had begun crying soon after our arrival. The gowns reminded me of the happy times I had spent with Edward in them. And the times he had helped me out of them.

"It's sweet of you to say so, Ang," I said tiredly, patting the bed beside me. "Come sit down. You've got to be exhausted carrying that around," I laughed good-naturedly, patting her tummy.

"We're betting on a girl," she said proudly. Ben says his first guesses are always wrong, and since he guessed 'boy' first…"

I smiled weakly.

"Where's the other one?" I asked suddenly, remembering that Angela's first born would be big enough to walk now.

"Fast asleep," she answered with a smile. "He's such a happy boy. I'm so glad he's started toothing. I'm tired of nursing," she laughed. I could not force myself to smile anymore. Eddie had finally stopped crying, so I carefully set him in his bassinet and returned to the bed, laying my head in Angela's lap. We had always been like this. Close enough to cry with each other. And for the first time in over two years, I dissolved to tears in her lap while she stroked my hair.

The weeks that followed were the hardest. Eventually, I had to accept that he was gone. I spent days locked away in my room, staring into my baby boy's darkening eyes, adoring him while holding back tears for his lot father. It seemed that the place in my heart Edward had carved out for himself during the weeks of courtship and the scant year we had spent with each other had festered into a seeping wound in his absence. My son did nothing to lessen the pain. But his smiles, his little dove coos, helped me cope.

I launched myself into being the perfect mother, daughter, and friend. When Charlie called I said nothing of the emptiness I felt when I thought of Edward. I spoke about the ripening fields of wheat and corn on the Crowley farm and the delight of watching my son learn new things.

At two months, he had discovered the joys of his Benjamin rabbit. He gummed the ears and fell asleep with one arm slung over the plush animal at night. He had a fascination with my hair, and would pull it if I let it down. He also liked to torment Angela's golden retriever. I had set him on a blanket one afternoon in the sunshine during lunch, and when I wasn't looking, he yanked the dog's tail. I had been afraid that it would bite my boy, but the dog just turned around and licked Eddie's face.

He had seemed confused at first. Some of Eddie's wispy hair stood up at odd angles due to the dog saliva. Finally, he broke into a wide smile and giggled so shrilly that I almost broke out in laughter too. I spent the rest of lunch tickling his little tummy to make him laugh some more. The sound was infectious.

Charlie called once a week from August 27th till October 16th, then suddenly the phone calls stopped. I waited a week, hoping that he had just been caught up with work. Finally, I worked up the courage to call the Police Department and was informed of the news.

Chief Swan had died from the influenza. He would be cremated and the ashes would be borne to me by the following week.

Around me, I felt the world crumbling, yet I could only sit and wait discontented for my own end. I had too much to live for, still, though I ached for my losses, and envied my son's innocence.

I marked time by his growth. The main events were my son's accomplishments. His first word was "da," and the event brought me to tears. I could only assume that he said it because I referred to his father as "daddy" when I told Eddie stories. Following "da" was "uma," which I understood to be "ma."

His first steps, his first birthday, his first sentence. I meticulously noted each event in a journal along with a sketch of what Eddie looked like.

All the while, I wished desperately that Edward could see. I knew I would not see him again. I understood that because I recognized the pain in my chest. The pain I could hardly contain at times. Still, I wished. And worried.

What would I say to my son when he finally understood enough to ask me "Where is daddy"?

To tell the truth, I wished I had been able to see him leave this earth. Then I would know without question how to answer. Because, at this moment, some part of me still managed to cling to the slightest shred of hope that perhaps – perhaps by some miracle – Edward was alive.

. . . . . . .

A/N: I know. You wanted more. It's not over yet, lovely readers. At least Eddie survived the hospital, right?

Thank you reviewers! I'll probably have another chapter up at some point. This one was a bit short for my tastes. Much love, and as always, happy reading.

-Forensica X


	14. Damned

A/N: Okay, so it took me a long time to figure out what I wanted to do. Obviously, Bella and Edward couldn't be together while he was a newborn, plus Carlisle had to take the newborn away from Chicago so he could become accustomed. But what then? I had to decide whether I would write alternating chapters of Bella being depressed and Edward being depressed and young, so I decided to skip ahead. Approximately 10 years. I know, quite a leap, right? But what's that to a vampire? Two minutes?

Anywho. This is what we've got. Break out the tissues, ladies. You're in for a rough ride.

BTW, this chapter is seen through Edward's eyes.

Disclaimer: I never have and never will own anything mentioned in SM's Twilight. I am but a poor student. She is a God. Enjoy.

. . . . . . . . .

Chapter Fourteen: Damned

. . . . . . . . .

I gasped as the last of the fire disappeared from my still heart and opened my eyes in awe. The sensation of air rushing into my lungs felt strange, wrong, but it took only a moment for my transformed mind to understand that I did not _need_ the breath. I could hear talking. The familiar masculine voice caught and held my attention first.

'I hope I have made the right decision. Shall I wait for him to speak? Should I introduce myself first..? He must be quite disoriented-'

"Excuse me," I said, marveling at the new sound of my voice. "I hate to interrupt but who are you and where am I?" I said, turning my gaze on the man who I assumed had spoken though I had not seen him utter the words. Belatedly, I realized how incredibly... perfect the man appeared. What sort of being was he? Was I? I felt myself growing irritated. He stared at me as if in shock.

'Did Carlisle say something?' asked one of the feminine voices I recognized from my time in the flames.

'Amazing. Perhaps he is gifted.' Another feminine voice. My sharp new eyes zeroed in on three women

"Can someone please answer my question? Are you Carlisle?" I demanded of the blonde with gold eyes.

"Yes. I am Carlisle Cullen. I tended you and your mother at Mercy Hospital. Do you remember, Edward?"

"Vaguely. Where is my mother?" I asked, already knowing the answer. If she was not here then she could only be one place.

"I'm afraid I could do nothing for her… but she begged before she passed that I do all _I_ could to help you."

Carlisle's expression changed.

'If I had any other way to save you I would have used it, Dear Edward. I am so sorry… I could not let you perspire when she pressed me so,' continued the voice, though the lips on the perfect face never moved. I saw flashes of my mother's face, her gaze determined despite the delirium of fever. She had known something, I realized, through these flashes.

It took me another moment to understand what I was hearing. My eyes had not moved from the doctor except to dart occasionally to the women, who stood defensively against a stairwell. And all throughout our brusque conversation I continued to hear their voices. Why were they not responding to each other? Why did their lips not move? Could these strange beings speak without _speaking_?

"Why do I hear you in my mind?" I asked, hearing the strain I felt in my voice.

'I can only conclude that you must be gifted, Edward,' the doctor's voice answered in my head. 'A manifestation perhaps, of a skill you had in your human life…'

"What am I? What are you?"

But before anyone could offer me a verbal answer, Carlisle launched into what I assumed to be his own memories. A simple chapel in a tiny, dirty town. Men with pitchforks. People persecuted as monsters of the night. And the real monsters. Carlisle. Burning. I saw his memories and experienced his emotions as if they were my own. The exchange lasted mere seconds yet I felt breathless when it was over. He waited quietly for my reaction, silently hoping that I reacted well.

"So you do not hunt human beings? …Tanya, Kate, and Irina – you adhere to this diet as well?" I asked, picking their names out of their thoughts.

"Yes. We are all committed to not existing at the expense of sentient beings. We were all humans after all… It's hard at first, but it's a choice we've adhered to for a while now."

The flavor of the strawberry blonde's mind – Tanya's – sent my thoughts back to my own woman. Bella.

"What of my wife?" I asked softly. She would not want a monster. A blood-sucking beast… Our son would be better away from him. From what I understood, I would want to kill them if I was left in their vicinity. The thought alone made me sick to my heart. I wished desperately for death. I knew, before Carlisle's mind gently told me so, that I would not be able to see them again. Ever. I felt incredibly lonely, angry, and pained.

"You should have let me die, Carlisle," I said into the near-silence, trapped in the thoughts of the three vampire women and the monster that had created me.

Over the months, my thoughts on Carlisle changed. Constantly exposed to his mind, it was impossible to doubt the goodness in his heart and the pure intentions he held for me. Yet I could not bring myself to be grateful to him when I remembered my son and wife. I hoped desperately that both were well, while simultaneously trying to limit my thoughts on them. I knew that Charlie would take care of them and I knew Bella would never leave our son alone in the world.

And so, I gave into the nature Carlisle taught me I could not avoid. By day, I studied, and played piano, and talked with Tanya, Kate, and Irina, if only briefly. By night, I feasted upon the blood of animals. I learned that I enjoyed predators best (specifically bear and wild cat). Carlisle told me stories of his amazing history in both silence and in speech. Tanya and her coven told me their histories as well. Yet, the loneliness was ever present in my suddenly expanded mind. The way Tanya's obvious, somewhat slatternly advances contrasted with the shy blush of my lovely Bella. The wild memories the sisters held of their human-hunting days reminded me (in their less violent stages) of lovemaking with my wife. The horrifying tale of Tanya's mother's transgression against vampire law – I was surprised to learn that there was such a thing – reminded me of my love of my son, though I had seen him only a few times.

The months passed into years. The years passed into a decade. After my first two years, Carlisle and I relocated from Juneau to Wisconsin. Ashland was a nice enough place. Overcast, mostly, which allowed Carlisle and I to be out and about in the sunlight. I pretended to be Carlisle's younger brother in public. I still struggled occasionally with our diet but for the most part it was easy to ignore the scent of human blood when I could hear their minds. They were innocents, happily oblivious to my dark existence. Carlisle worked at the tiny hospital in town while I played piano, honing my previous skills into a veritable art. It reminded me strongly of my wife and mother, but I could manage the pain through playing. I wrote several songs for the son I would never raise, and more for the woman I had loved too little. For my mother, I composed peaceful melodies to sooth her in heaven.

On one such afternoon, sitting in the open parlor, playing piano, I heard Carlisle approaching the house at a run, the smell of freshly spilled blood on him. My throat burned painfully at the scent and a snarl built in my throat as Carlisle ran through the door. His thoughts assaulted me with both apologies and begging remarks.

'This is Esme, Edward. The one I think about so often. I've bitten her. I need you to look after her if you can, please.'

I nodded gruffly, understanding now, my eyes summing up what I smelled already. The blood I smelled clung to her clothes. That which remained in her veins was so diluted with Carlisle's venom that it hardly registered. I had already tuned out Carlisle's mind, for the most part. He was obsessively worrying about the changing woman currently laid out on the sofa.

"Perhaps she'll be more comfortable when she wakes if I find her some other clothing," I remarked quietly, giving myself an excuse to leave. The love he felt toward the girl made me bitter. He would have his wife, soon, it seemed. Her mind was nothing but grateful that Carlisle had found her. She was happy. Then the memories that shot through her pained me.

After the change, Carlisle and Esme married. I saw how his eyes lit up when she looked at him, when they touched, and my heart ached. But it was not until July 1927 that I rebelled. I knew it would hurt Esme. I knew that Carlisle was hurt by my decision as well. But I was finished. I could no longer take the loving exchanges between them, the ardor that passed between them so unconcealed it was like lighting between the clouds. If I could not have the pleasure of being in love, then how could I deny myself the pleasure of feeding as I was meant to? Feeding in the natural way, the nature that Carlisle denied?

I could _hear_ them – the filth that roamed the streets, the sorts of things that had reduced Esme to suicide and so many others to the same fate. I could hear those who would hurt one as lovely as my Bella, or our now nine-year-old son. I decided, if I could no longer provide for my loved ones and I could not experience the joys of being a father, I would protect others weaker than myself, those who shared the same type of life as my lovely wife and son. I would kill the slime, drink their blood, and be pacified that I had found at least some purpose. I had sometimes referred to my Bella as my Angel. And now, I would be her guardian – guardian angel for women like her.

I could not help but laugh at the irony.

I migrated back to Illinois, back to Chicago, half hoping I would hear my love and be able to serve as a protector for her home, at least. But her beautiful voice eluded me. Night after night, I roamed through the streets, hoping to hear her, or a voice like hers and mine – but nothing reached me. So I swept through the alleys, listening primarily to the male voices.

'Oh she's a pretty one. Check that chick out. Flappers like her _want_ what we're offering, anyway…'

Before the thought could become action, I was upon him, biting down on his jugular with my hand clamped hard over his mouth and nose. I deposited the body in a dumpster and disguised the bite with the gun the man had hidden in his coat pocket. It was a simple matter of shooting from one side, letting the crescent bites explode outward with the exiting bullet.

Others, I stalked more slowly. Some were indecisive of what they would do. Those, I would wait until they were about to strike before saving the victim… My eyes glowed scarlet with their blood. My lips and hands were smeared with it. My soul was weighed down with it. But I took comfort in the fact that I could be doing the world a little good. I could be protecting my sweet girl.

I soon grew weary of Chicago. By September1928, I had moved to New York. It was easy to blend in among the smog. Many days were overcast and it was not unusual to be seen roaming about after dark. I found a little comfort in the music. Jazz was a wonderful thing. I had heard the early stages of it in the Dixieland Jass Band, but now… It was its own animal. To the beat of the "devil's music" I continued my cursed existence.

After a week of living in New York City, I became aware that I was not alone in my hunts. Another like myself roamed the streets. Curious, perhaps morbidly so, I followed him at a distance one night, listening to his thoughts. He was different in a few ways. He enjoyed children. I felt sick to my stomach at the images and imaginings in his head.

A young boy with head twisted opposite of what was natural, eyes sightless, throat bleeding. A little girl, shredded beyond recognition, all to disguise the simple bite at her tiny throat. Two other boys, tempted to the monster's side by cigarettes and vodka. Occasionally, a young woman, perhaps Bella's age the last time I saw her, dressed so scantily it was obvious what profession she held, offered twenty dollars to sit in the beast's lap.

I was faced with a dilemma. This was something far removed from what I had experienced so far. Carlisle and Esme abstained from harming any human life. Others hunted simply to eat, but this one took _pleasure_ from slaughtering the innocent. Yet he never killed more than one or two a night… My conscious would not allow me to let it go; however. The children made my mind up. I could hear their fear, their terror, as they died. I could feel their pain as they experienced it.

In my ponderings I had missed a new thought that crossed his mind. Before, I had heard only memories as he prepared for the hunt. Now, I saw what he saw in the present minute.

The child was unquestionably beautiful. He was perhaps eight years old, ten at most. His hands and face were clean, ivory and roses. He had a smattering of freckles over his straight nose, and a mess of bronze curls surrounding his face. The shape of his eyes halted me in my blind shadowing of the hunter.

They were rounded almonds with long, dark lashes – I would recognize those eyes anywhere, though the color beneath the lashes was a sparkling emerald.

"_Where are you going, little boy? Isn't it past supper time?"_

"_I am on my way home, Mr. My momma's waiting on me… Excuse me, please."_

He was so incredibly polite. His soft little voice was a strange mix of mine and Bella's light and sweet but also velvety.

"_Don't go yet, little one. I have a present for you if you tell me something." _

I could see the monster offering him a Hershey's chocolate bar.

"_My momma told me I shouldn't take things from strangers. Thanks Mister, but no thanks… I really should be going, now."_

I could tell by the angelic boy's thoughts that he was afraid. I saw the monster's face reflected in his mind and read the inexplicable fear coloring the thought. _Run_, I hoped desperately, though I knew his weak legs would only take him so far. _Keep talking_. Then I saw another face in the boy's mind – the most beautiful face in the world. _Bella._

Her eyes were a little lined with worry, her lips set into a pout, her teeth worrying her lower lip. Her hair pulled into an elegant chignon at the base of her neck, a lace apron hugging her curves. In the boy's mind, she appeared worried, motherly, loving, open and inviting. _He adored her_.

"_You mustn't go, yet, little boy," _the sickeningly sweet voice crooned. I could hear the thoughts behind it as well. _'Just a step further into the alley. Come, quickly, I am parched._ I saw as the skeletally white hand curled into a claw around the boy's soft arm, and heard his pain and horror in my mind.

I pushed myself faster, harder, needing to save the boy, cursing myself for allowing their thoughts to distract me from my goal – annihilating the beast. Two more blocks.

_The hand tugged him away from the pool of light on the sidewalk, into the darkness. His scream went up before being cut off by a weak gurgle_.

_No!_

I burst through the alley just as the beast lifted his face away from the child's throat with a snarl. Pain tore through my chest. I could be completely wrong. She could be a look-alike, as well as the boy. I cared not. It was as if my son had been ripped from my arms. I threw myself at the Other without a second thought, tearing him to pieces easily. Though I was no longer newborn, He was no match for me in my rage. I struck a match over the venom-infused body parts, the chunks flaring into a blaze immediately. I turned from the wreckage and back to the limp body; waves anguish the likes of which I had never before felt shook me.

"M-mommy,"

The choked sound froze me to the spot in my approach. Holding my breath against the spilled blood, I gently, carefully slid my arms around his cool shoulders, rocking him gently.

"It hurts… Mommy!" he cried. I examined the wound at his throat and listened intently as his heart stuttered erratically. The vampire had sucked all the venom he had injected out already. All that was left was pain and death.

I could do nothing to stem the flow. Red blossomed over his white shirt like a grotesque flower. Beneath us, it began a steady drip-drip onto the wet pavement as I held him. He would maintain consciousness only a little longer.

The things I saw in his mind were incoherent, disjointed – memories of a grassy, sunny place, and animals; beautiful brunette tresses cascading over a picnic blanket; good marks on a test; a lovely Irish ditty I recognized from my own childhood, sung in my lover's voice; Jazz; baseball cards purchased with a dime; Coca Cola in a glass with ice; Bella with her arms wrapped around him; Bella telling him that his father had not left them on purpose; Bella refusing a man's advances; Bella sewing into the night; Bella cleaning; Bella making breakfast, lunch, and dinner; Bella with her hands rough and dirty from work; Bella with her sweet smile.

My dead heart broke in time with every new, brief image, things I missed, things I half-hoped I would never see for the pain I now experienced, and too quickly, the images faded into nothing but bright flashes of light, and then, darkness.

"Junior?" I whispered, shaking the little boy. I was vaguely aware of the strange pricking sensation in my eyes. Was this what it felt like to weep?

"Eddie," I said again. Only a weak glug-glug answered me. The blood against my arms was growing cold, as well as the body between them.

"Eddie!"

This voice did not belong to me. I inhaled, searching for the source of the voice. Fire poured down my nose and throat, blinding me with its intensity, dulling my other senses. I wanted to rip, tear, kill, drink. The scent that assaulted me was so incredibly alluring that I could feel it pulling me up, the child still in my arms. I barely quieted the snarl in my throat as I desperately searched for a distraction from the delicious smell: more sin, more anger, more lust, something else to feed me besides the delicious pull from just beyond the alley.

"Edward Anthony Masen! If you don't get your behind in his door in _two_ minutes, supper's the _last_ thing you'll need to worry about!"

The smell of cold blood finally woke me from my brief enchantment. Her son, my son, still lay dead and I wanted his mother. I was abruptly disgusted and infuriated with myself. What would I do? Wait for her to come looking for the boy? I could not take him from here. She would assume that it was I who killed our joy. Pain ripped through my center again.

I may as well have. I could not stop the one who did…

She could kill me. I would take the boy to her and step willingly into her fire. I would not live with this guilt, could not! My only son, our only legacy was gone.

My feet began carrying me towards her voice before I had consciously decided to move. I cradled Junior to my chest, knowing that we were gruesome to behold, and walked carefully through the shadows on the walk. She leaned from the front door. It wouldn't do to cause a scene on the street. I leapt lightly over the back fence and slipped inside easily, picking the lock with ease.

My human pace brought me to a stop in her immaculate kitchen. An apron lay folded over the back of a chair. Our shared kitchen table held two plates of spaghetti, some juice and water, and freshly baked rolls. Bella turned from the stoop and swung the door closed, clearly worried. It took her a moment to see me. Perhaps she believed she was dreaming. Her eyes widened, her mouth opened in a silent cry, and tears spilled over her cheeks. She took a step forward, her hand extended to touch the blood-soaked front of my shirt. _Why couldn't I hear her?_

Agonized, I watched the emotions play across her face as she took in the two of us. My eyes, his cold body, his blood, my cold skin. Her lips parted again, but before she could speak, her eyelids fluttered and she fell forward. I caught her in my arm, transferring Eddie to my left as I held her in my right.

"I am so sorry, my love," I whispered. Beside her, Eddie's heart stuttered its last beat.

. . . . . . .

A/N: Wahhhh! I'm crying, too. But E.J. Can't be immortal. He's a kid. Besides, Edward would never want that for his son.

At this point we have until 1931 for Edward to return to Carlisle and Esme. If you would like Bella/Edward romance asap, then review. I will insert fluffy citrus at 50 reviews and at last count there were 42. You CAN review if you do not have a account. Happy reading.

-Forensica X


	15. Dreaming

A/N: I'm so sorry for that, lovely readers. But it had to happen. The way I've planned this story fits exactly into what would have happened if Edward and Bella had met circa 1917 and married. The characters you have known and loved in the _Twilight_ saga still exist and still have mostly the same story. Remember, I promised a happy ending, and a happy ending you shall get. If, however, at the completion of this story you would like to know more about little Eddie's brief human life, I'd be happy to do a side story upon request.

EGADS! Thank you attentive readers and reviewers! I forgot I killed Charlie off… 0.0 I wrote this chapter at 0400 in the morning. So… Sorry about the confusion. All better now.. I'm going to go self-flagellate.

As always, thank you so much for the reviews. Happy reading!

Disclaimer: I never have and never will own anything mentioned in SM's Twilight. I am but a poor student. She is a God. Enjoy.

. . . . . . . . .

Chapter Fifteen: Dreaming

. . . . . . . . .

I found myself lost in the dark, and was not surprised. This had been my dream for the past ten years. The dream began shortly after my seventeenth birthday, and continued night after night for nearly a year. The dream changed, through the months (mostly because my growing boy featured in it) but stayed essentially the same. Now, the dream had taken on further horrors to torture me. I hoped that my screams wouldn't wake Eddie.

Before me, Edward stood in a lone pool of light, his skin glinting in the brightness – soft, snow-white, glittering, cold. His lips were parted as if in a cry of agony. His beautiful emerald eyes had darkened and morphed into rubies. Bright specks of red contrasted grotesquely against his beautiful skin, the whiteness of his shirt, the beautiful plane of his cheek. He held out his arms and fell to his knees and screamed and suddenly – I felt my heart clench – he was not alone in the spotlight.

My beautiful son, his son, lay cradled in Edward's arms, his lovely eyes half-closed, the lavender lids forming blinds over the emerald pupils beneath. His rosy cheeks and lips were ashen, nearly blue. His shirt was drenched in the same scarlet that speckled Edward's visage. Edward had stopped his cries. He looked up at me, the expression reminiscent of one burning at the stake, face contorted and strained.

"I'm so sorry, my love," he whispered, agonized.

And then… Blackness. I searched and searched for my angels, crying and screaming. It wasn't until I felt a cool touch on my forehead that I woke, gasping for air, still moaning in pain.

"Bella, love," the velvet voice whispered softly.

"Edward?" I whimpered, reaching toward the voice, aware that I was drenched with cold sweat and shivering. The cold touch withdrew and I whimpered, fighting tears. A dream, only a dream. I was imagining him again. I had imagined my son's death too. I spoke into the darkness, blinking through my tears in a vain attempt to see.

"You must stop haunting me, Edward… I can't keep seeing you anymore… You're making me crazy," I sobbed as I slid out of bed carefully, still shaking. I needed to reassure myself. Every few nights I went through this cycle: Waking from the nightmare, running to Eddie's room to assure myself that he was unharmed.

I stumbled to the door, not bothering with the lights, then down the hall to Eddie's bedroom. As always, his door was wide open. I went to kneel beside the bed, gently smoothing back his curls with my left hand. I kept them longer than most mothers did for their boys. I could not bear to cut them too short… My fingers paused in their trek from his brow to hairline. His skin was chilled. I frowned slightly, panic rising in me as I rubbed my other hand over his cheek.

"Eddie, darling?"

No answer. He was a heavy sleeper, though, like Charlie.

"Eddie?"

I shook him gently and gasped when my hand came away sticky and wet.

"Eddie?" my voice shot up in shrill panic as I nearly knocked over the bedside lamp in an attempt to turn it on. The blasted thing finally flared to life, chasing the shadows to the other side of the bed, behind me, behind the headboard.

"Oh.. oh God…" I whimpered, backing away from the bed. A darkening red stain spread from Eddie's shirt collar to nearly his abdomen, blossoming over both shoulders and darkening his suspenders as well. I clapped my hand over my mouth, trembling uncontrollably, unable to rise to my feet.

"Bella," the velvet voice called to me again, agonized and strained strangely. I turned jerkily, sure that I had finally gone mad. The voice I had heard for years was speaking to me again, stabbing me deeper when I hurt the most. But there he was in all his heavenly perfection, his features sharpened by his angelic status, his glorious eyes dark ruby. They frightened me, a little, but not any more than the scene on the bed.

"Please, save him, Edward," I whimpered, my hand fluttering uselessly in gesture to the bed.

"I can't Bella, I couldn't… I'm so sorry… I tried," it seemed as if he was begging me for forgiveness. I could only collapse into his arms and sob. At the back of my mind, I noted that my hallucination angel Edward seemed to be constructed of granite – Almost as if the statue of David had become more beautiful and decided to move. He smelled like he always did, if not even better. The sweet scent enveloped me as I cried, helpless in his arms. It was if a second hole had ripped open in my chest and was currently consuming me from the inside out. Eating away at my lungs, first, then my ribs and heart. I fought the urge to vomit as the scent of my precious son's blood hit me. I realized I had been half-holding my breath since I entered the room, and now that I sobbed and subsequently inhaled over and over, I could smell the rustiness of it. The room spun dangerously and Edward lifted me up, into his cool arms, and carried me away from the carnage.

I looked blurrily up at my husband's face and felt an illogical pang of jealousy and pain. Ten years, and he had not aged one single day. Whereas I was rougher looking, now: my hands were rougher, my nails and fingers beaten from ten years of working, cooking, cleaning. My hands bore too many burns from fighting the stove and the many farms between here and Chicago.

"Why haven't you aged?" I screeched in a bout of hysteria. He held and rocked me as I sobbed for all of the things I was feeling at this moment – the budding realization that this angelic creature was real, that my son had been undone by some grisly accident of nature, that my loneliness all this time had been unnecessary. These awoke new fears in me, and made me mad with pain and anger. My sobs turned into shrieks then moans and whimpers as he held me through the night. It dawned on me belatedly that Edward had never gotten to hold his son. I cried a whole new wave of tears for all the things he missed and all the things we would miss now that we were reunited. We would never see our Eddie fall in love and get married. He would never learn how to drive…

"Bella," Edward whimpered sometime after the sun had risen. His voice sound cracked and dry, as if he voiced how I felt inside: cracked sanity, dry heart. "Bella, please, talk to me," he begged. I could not bear to be the reason behind the pain in his velvet voice.

"It's not your fault, Edward," I said, sounding hoarse. It was unfair that even when he was in as much agony as I, he still sounded like velvet while I did a fair impression of a toad. I felt so stupid for finding the time to compare my voice to his perfect one. I knew him, though. He would blame himself when I knew he was innocent.

"How could you possibly know," he demanded, suddenly furious. His hands became iron shackles around my upper arms. "How could you possibly know that it was not I who tore our son's life from him? How could you know that it was not I who lured him into the dark, who tempted him with sweeties, stole him from his mother? Even if it was not – It may as well have been! I saw it all, Bella! I saw the beast that did this to him! Knew what he attended! And I hesitated! Hesitated for a moment too long – long enough for him to snuff out our son!"

I gasped, his hands had squeezed me too tightly. I could feel the circulation cut off. My fingers began tingling.

"Edward..!" he must have read the pain across my face. I regretted the complaint as soon as I said it, for when I looked up he was across the room, pressed as close to the wall as he could managed, his hands curved into fists, his knuckles straining against his skin so tightly I wondered how they did not break though.

"See.. See what I am, Bella? I cannot even keep myself from hurting you..! Just to hold you in my arms is a danger to your life. Do you not understand, love? I'm a monster! I am the damned! And you, Angel, you must order me away! You must order me to take responsibility! I cannot without your blessing. I am too… weak."

"I won't, Edward," I said steadily, I sounded as determined as I felt and I was glad. Half my heart had been carved out, but the other half now healed with his presence. "I don't care what you are. You can't leave me again!"

I couldn't take any more. My voice cracked and broke, dissolving into another sob. Carefully, gradually, Edward inched his way across the floor to kneel beside me again. Oh-so-gently, he enfolded me in his arms and pulled me into his lap. He leaned against the side of the bed, and we both wept. He, tearlessly, I, with endless oceans of moisture, for our little boy, for the time we'd lost.

"What time is it?" I croaked, shielding my eyes from the light slanting through the window. Edward had moved me at some point to lie against his side, the both of us curled on the throw rug beside Eddie's bed.

"Past noon, love," Edward whispered. "You slept for seven hours." He still sounded anguished. As much as I also felt that way, it sounded impossibly wrong in his angel's voice.

"We should… clean him up. Take him to the funeral home," I said so quietly I wondered if he could hear it.

"I'll do it," he said determinedly. "I should… after…"

"Let's both go," I insisted weakly, trying not to look at the mutilated body. I wanted to remember my boy as the beautiful child he was – vibrant, glowing, an Edward in miniature with Charlie's curls, and my lips.

I tried not to cry. Edward had seen enough of my tears to last a lifetime. Even if he were just an illusion I would hang onto him as long as possible. I started to stand and Edward helped me, steadying me gently. I looked up at him a little cautiously.

"You'll need newer clothes… and a shower."

"Both of us do," he said quietly. I took his hand and led him back to my bedroom. The armoire was still full of his things. They were a decade old, but they would fit. Out of fashion or not. My eyes glanced down at his left hand and I bit my lip when I saw that his wedding band no longer rested there. He seemed to follow my gaze, and his hand disappeared into his pocket, almost too quickly for me to see. He withdrew the plain gold band, slipping it back onto its rightful place.

"The only thing that has kept me going until now, Bella, is that I knew you must be alive somewhere. Even if you had remarried, I would still live for you. I… I was trying to protect people like you and Junior when… When I found him," he finished weakly, wincing. I pulled his cold hand to my lips, fully aware that if he wished he could have stopped me. But he seemed to melt a little when I kissed his ring. I didn't care how it came to be – it only mattered that he was with me, now.

"The only thing that has kept me going until now, Edward" I whispered, quoting him, "is that I knew you _must_ exist somewhere. Even if you no longer knew me, I still lived for you and our boy… and now, I live for _us._"

His deep burgundy, almost black eyes smoldered spellbindingly as I stared into them. Carefully, he lifted his left hand. As if he were afraid I would break beneath his touch, he carefully traced my face from brow to chin with the back of his hand in a gentle caress.

"I adore you, Bella Masen," he whispered.

I leaned into the perfume of his breath and the strength of his embrace, standing on tiptoe to kiss him. Abruptly, the moment was gone and Edward pushed me away with a look of sacrifice and pain on his face.

"We have business to attend to, love," he said gently. I tried to push aside the senseless feeling of rejection. I had just heard his assurances of his adoration of me… We _did _ have business to attend to.

"I kept most of your things… there's a suit in there for you. I'll just wash my hands and change out here. You can use the shower," I said softly as I turned to the washbasin I kept by the bed out of habit.

I did not hear Edward leave my side, but I did hear the water turning on. I dipped my reddish-brown smeared hands into the water and looked away, scrubbing until I felt all of the grit and stickiness dissolve. I opened the window, still looking away from the pinkish water as I dumped it into the alley below.

Edward emerged from the bathroom, soon after, in the midst of buttoning up his shirt. I helped him as I had when we lived together in Chicago. My hands immediately went to straighten his necktie. His hands caught mine before I could clip his suspenders and I turned away. I would not push the issue. If he did not want me touching him then I would not. Turning away, I deftly unbuttoned my dress and slid it off, leaving just my stockings, garters, thin filmy shorts and camisole. I pulled a drop waist dress from the armoire and slipped it over my head. There was much to be said about the current styles; they were so much more comfortable than the corset-and-petticoat nonsense I had grown up with. It was not until I turned that I noticed Edward's stare. The look in his eyes was frightening in its intensity. Hungry. There was no other way to describe it. The desire in his eyes made a shiver roll down my spine.

"We should go," I said in a soft reminder, blushing as I averted my gaze. Edward went to Eddie's room and wrapped him in his sheets before carrying him to the car. There was no other way to go about it. I slid into the driver's seat. I did not need to look to know that Edward would take his place beside me. The ride to the funeral home was short and passed in silence. The man who met and helped us arrange Eddie's funeral was too formal. Too brusque. He spent more time staring between Edward and I than thinking about our Eddie. It made me furious to think he could treat death, the death of my baby, with such nonchalance. I was on the verge of angry tears when Edward finally excused us both after finishing the finalities. They would embalm my boy and he would be ready for burial within the week. I briefly debated telling Angela. What, though? That my son had been brutally murdered? She wouldn't believe the "accident" bit… I watched him too carefully.

Then it would only be myself and Edward beside Eddie's grave come Friday. Until then, I had time to decide whether I was still caught in some horrific nightmare or a bizarrely comforting dream. It felt strange – I knew my one and only son was gone, lost to me, and it pained me beyond belief. Each breath felt like daggers to my tightly compressed lungs, yet Edward's cold, smooth hand in my gloved one made me sigh in content. I could not decide whether I should rejoice or cry, or both simultaneously.

Edward drove us back to the house. It was nearing dinnertime, so I set about making dinner. I made enough for two, as usual. Once everything was either on the stove or in the oven I made my way to the telephone. School and work.

"Hello?" I had decided to ring Ms. Jordyn first. I sometimes substituted for her girls' school and I regularly did the sewing, mending, and washing. I did not _need_ the work, I had discovered only a few years ago. Some time after I had moved from the farm outside of Tinly Park, an insurance agency in Chicago had contacted me with news that I would be receiving insurance money from the deaths of Mr. Edward Anthony Masen, Jr. and Mrs. Elizabeth Masen. But all of that I put away in the bank for when Eddie was old enough to go to college. In the meantime I picked up odd jobs to keep myself busy and to keep meals on the table. It seemed the saving was pointless, now. I wondered idly what I would do with all of it… Nearly five hundred dollars had accumulated already in the account.

"Hello, Ms. Jordyn?" I snapped out of my thoughts at the sound of the woman on the other end.

"Yes? Is that you, Bella Masen?"

"Yes… I'm so sorry I didn't call earlier. I've… Eddie's… There was an accident…" my voice broke and I wondered how many times I would have to feel my heart shatter along with it, how many times I would have to admit his absence.

"Oh, dear. Is he alright?"

"I'm afraid not," I said almost too quietly for her to hear.

"I'm so sorry for your loss, dear," Ms. Jordyn said. She did sound sorry. I felt bad for spreading my pain. "Come in whenever you're ready. You'll always have work with us."

"Thank you."

The comfortingly cool arms that slid around my waist did only a little to quell the ache in my heart and lungs. It felt as if I would suffocate, or that my insides would explode outward – I could not decide which. I felt so broken. Like broken pieces lying in a box together, no where to go, nothing to do…

Dinner was a silent affair. I pushed my food around absently for a while. Edward did the same. I had so many questions. The weight of what had passed hung in the air between us. In the end, it was he that broke the tense stillness.

"Why did you not remarry? You were only seventeen when they let you out of the hospital, Bella."

"I did not want to. I still loved you," I whispered. He sounded so accusatory. Almost as if he wished I _had_ married.

"Why did you move to New York?"

"Easier for a single mother to get a paying job."

"You should have married."

"No use arguing something that will never and has never happened, Edward," I said in near exasperation. He was always this stubborn, I was just now remembering.

"And in all that time, you've never once considered- You've never once thought that you deserved love?"

"I didn't want anyone else's love, Edward."

"You're a fool."

"I'm my husband's fool," I answered bitterly, pushing my food away.

"And now?"

"I still wear your ring." My voice came a little softer as I twisted my thin gold wedding band around my finger. I wore his engagement ring on my right hand, now, both symbols of his love for me.

"…How could you want me still, Bella, now that you've seen what I've become?"

But I hadn't, not really. I still did not understand.

"What have you become, Edward?" I asked somewhat sharply. "How have you changed except superficially? You have the same heart, the same compassion, the same tenderness… You still… Do you not want me anymore?" I asked fearfully. His eyes seemed torn. What was it I saw there? Regret? Fear? Desire? I could not tell – the emotions flashed away as quickly as they came.

"I- Bella, I am the same sort of beast that did _that_ to our son. I… kill… people, Bella."

"You wouldn't hurt a child," I said, sounding more sure of it than I felt.

"No. I've never hurt a child," he qualified. "But I have, I do, kill people to sustain myself, Bella."

"To sustain yourself? So you're… Like Dracula?" I asked, chewing my lower lip. The popular fictional novel. Garlic, crosses, holy water, and spikes.

"Not quite. But it is the same concept. Not so romantic as Dracula."

"…How does it work?" I asked, morbidly curious. "How did you…"

"I was saved by a doctor at Mercy Hospital. Mother died but asked him to help me as a final request… He granted it, in this way."

"So this doctor is a good vampire. You are a good vampire."

"Ha!" the short, sarcastic laugh startled me. "Carlisle denies what is natural to us. Sitting here with you Bella… It is like having a red-hot poker thrust down my throat, yet after feeling the pain of losing our… Our son… My entire being cringes from the thought of feeling that again. And it would be a hundred times more agonizing to know that you, my angel, no longer breathed."

"Oh…" I said softly. It was all I could manage.

"You haven't aged," I stated the obvious. He was still magnificent as when he married me at sixteen.

"No…"

"And I'm… nearly thirty," I said with a grimace. I did not look _old_, but I definitely looked _older _than Edward.

"You're beautiful," he said so reverently that I blushed. "I'm technically the same age as you, Bella, merely frozen…"

"Freeze me, too, please, before I can pass as your mother," I muttered mutinously. Edward's face became drawn and his eyes narrowed.

"Never."

"Why not, Edward?"

"It would be too dangerous, Bella… And despite… Despite what happened, you can still live a full life. You're young enough for more children if you wish. You have everything in the world waiting for you."

"I won't enjoy it without you… I refuse to be away from you Edward," I said with sudden fear shaking me. I could not, would not, survive without Edward again. Not on my own. The hole that had just begun re-stitching itself rent open again. I gasped for air as I gripped my sides. "Please don't leave me again, Edward, I- I can't!"

He seemed to understand. In a moment his cold, hard arms were wrapped tightly around my trembling torso, his lips brushing my hair with soft murmured apologies and reassurances. My heart was breaking over and over today, and I could not stand yet another shattering blow. How could I live without a reason? Surely he knew what he was doing to me… Edward's lips found my cool forehead and spoke against my skin while his arms clutched me tighter against his chest.

"I swear to you, Isabella Marie Masen, my wife, I will not break the vow I swore to you. I have never broken it… I have loved you for the entirety of the time I have known you and all the time we have been separated. I respect you for the fire in your eyes, the love in your heart, and the strength of your mind. I have honored the gift you gave me that day… I have always carried our wedding ring. I have not… I could not provide for you and your needs recently..." Edward's eyes became pained again, then burned hotter with the fervor behind them.

"But Bella, I swear to you again, in my immortality, that I will continue to cherish you for eternity. I make a new vow, my love, that I _will_ stand beside you for as long as you desire it. I _will_ provide for your every need and whim… I _will_ be a comfort to you, my angel, if I have to batter down the very gates of Heaven for you!"

Then Edward's eyes hardened into blind determination. I watched in fascination as his slender fingers rose to my chin and tilted my face upwards. Simultaneously he dipped his head, lowering his lips, and I closed my eyes.

The kiss was a mere brush of his lips against mine at first, but the heat that flooded my veins pushed me to part mine. I inhaled the lovely scent of him, even more potent than _before_, and I leaned forward to kiss him more deeply. My tongue darted out to trace his lower lip and Edward did not pull away. Instead, he seemed to be bracing himself against the floor as I threw my arms around his shoulders and clung to him, making love to his mouth with mine. Too soon, Edward carefully pushed me away. It frustrated me to no ends that I used all my strength to hold onto him, yet it was not nearly enough.

"Bella, please, do not test me," he said weakly, but I gladdened at the slight amusement in the dark depths.

"I need to hunt," he said abruptly, the word sounding sinister in his velvet voice.

"May I go as well?"

"No!" the vehemence of his refusal startled me. I felt my brow furrow as I tugged and tested my lower lip. It had become a more persistent habit, as Eddie grew older. Edward pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "No, Bella, it's too dangerous for you. You do not understand… please, if you value my sanity, stay inside. Do not open any windows. Do not answer the door. Keep everything locked and I will return to you by dawn."

"How will you get in if everything's locked up?" I inquired, curious as to how he had gotten in… before. Edward merely gave me a sad little smile that told me it had something to do with the whole immortality bit, and kissed my cheek lightly.

"Go to bed, love. I _will_ be there when you wake."

He walked me upstairs to my bedroom, tucked me in once I changed (I retreated to the bathroom to do so, I could not bear him seeing me in a state of undress after all these years while it was obvious that he was still perfect and beautiful as ever). And he hummed my lullaby to me until I fell asleep.

My dreams were as disturbing as ever, after a fashion. I could see Edward and myself, standing together. I knew we were happy. When I held Edward's hand it no longer felt cold to me, but pleasantly warm. My own hand in his sparkled strangely in the sunlight that filtered through the blinds. I spun, and my arms locked around a beautiful child, much like Eddie when he was a baby, with lovely bronze curls and dimples and soft hot skin. The baby turned its head to me and I gasped at the blood-red eyes.

"Bella!" Edward hissed urgently in my ear. I could feel his cold hands shaking me lightly. Opening my eyes revealed that I was curled into a beautifully sculpted chest, half-displayed behind unbuttoned cotton shirt. Heat shot through me again? What in God's name was wrong with me? Here I was, a recently un-widowed woman of nearly thirty reacting to masculine beauty with all the grace of a silly sixteen-year-old. I groaned and pressed my forehead against his chest, hiding my face.

Edward stroked my hair for a few moments and sighed in exasperation. I looked up at him in askance and he pursed his lips, apparently trying to phrase something difficult.

"Your silence frustrates me to no ends–"

"I'm sorry, should I talk about something?" I opened my mouth to babble some more but Edward stopped me by brushing his lips over my forehead.

"No, Bella, I mean… I have a gift." His lovely lips turned upwards in my favorite crooked grin. He tapped his forehead. "I can hear most. It's how I've been justifying… what I do, because I can hear the thoughts of the wicked streetwalkers and hunt them exclusively, but you! You are, as you have always been, a complete enigma."

"Oh… Well, I was thinking about how despite my obvious age, I still react…" I blushed scarlet, I was sure. "I still react as I always have," I finished in a soft whisper. Edward's fingers tilted my face up and his eyes smoldered with the desire I had caught there briefly before.

"Despite my dubious state of vitality, it seems I too react as I always have to your beauty, Bella," he whispered to me in a voice so deliciously rough that I almost whimpered. I could not, however, stop the shiver that rolled down my spine.

"Are you cold?" he whispered in the same voice, pulling the blanket around me tighter about my figure.

"Not in the least," I answered before sitting up to kiss him again.

I would never tire of kissing my frozen husband. I knew that anyone to witness such a thing would have called me cradle robber, or he a gigolo. But if it did not matter to him that I was only a couple of years from being old enough to be his mother, then I did not care either.

Eventually, as seemed to be his new habit, he pushed me away gently and rose from the bed.

"I thought perhaps you would like another day off, a vacation from all I've made you deal with these past few days. A movie? Dinner?"

"You're asking me on a date, Edward?"

He surprised me with a smirk and a flippant bow.

"Just because you're a deb, doesn't mean I cant ask you out, doll."

"Where in _God's_ name did you learn that sort of thing?" I laughed, unable to help myself. I had heard way too many drugstore cowboys talk like that (sometimes to me) to know that _that_ sort of slang had only been recently invented by the silver screen and fueled by the sex-crazed sensational kids out there.

"Part of passing as human, Bella, is keeping up with the slang of today. I _am_ supposedly the nineteen-year-old younger brother of a certain Dr. Carlisle Cullen, chasing skirts by night and studying by day."

"Is that the story you give with him?"

"It's the story you'll need to know… If you're not opposed, I'd like to introduce you to him. I'm sure he and Esme will welcome you with open arms… That is… If you want to live with me again, Bella," he rushed, suddenly pleading. My face split into a grin.

"As soon as we can, I'll leave with you, Edward. I want to be with you forever." At the word "forever" Edward's eyes darkened only briefly before the determination returned and he nodded.

"I promise you an eternity, Bella, as long as that is what you truly desire."

. . . . . . .

A/N: There you have it. More fluff to come between now and 1931. Bella _will _be changed. She and Edward _are _eternally united. Poor Eddie does stay in the grave. But we love him, dearly, of course.

I promised a happy ending and a happy ending you shall get. I love all of you who read and reviewed. All of you other people (9000 some) who click and leave – I dislike you. I have more favorites than I have reviews in total! Please please please review! It motivates me to keep you happy. Nonreviews make me do evil things like kill small children in my fiction… (Not really that was planned already, although somewhat less violently. This is so much more dramatic though and fits more nicely than what I had in mind…) Anyway. PLEASE REVIEW! I PROMISE CITRUS!

After the completion of this story I will have a set of polls or an A/N set up to pose the question as to whether or not I should do side stories. I am planning on doing an Alice fiction on her time in the mental institution and finding Jasper. I may do a Tanya, Kate, Irina, and mother fanfic as well at some point. But until then.

Read and Review, and as always, Happy reading!

-Forensica X


	16. Firsts

A/N: It just occurred to me that I've forgotten the disclaimer for the last three chapters. I've just corrected the issue so I hope there aren't any lawsuits building against me as I speak. I worship SM's imaginary kingdom and own nothing except the specific plots used in this fiction. I MAKE NO PROFIT. IF I DID I WOULD NOT BE HERE! I WOULD BE RELAXING ON A BEACH IN TAHITI SOMEWHERE!

During the process of writing this chapter and drawing motivation from my precious reviews, I saw that some of my attentive readers noticed an error of gigantic proportions! I forgot that I killed Charlie off! So, if you didn't see in my last author's note, I have since corrected the problem and self flagellated for an extended amount of time. I have learned my lesson: no writing past 2:00 AM.

So, with that nonsense out of the way… On with the show! I felt it was high time we had a little lightness and love in this fiction-quickly-approaching-epic-proportions and so, without further adieu, Happy reading!

Disclaimer (Again!): I never have and never will own anything mentioned in SM's Twilight. I am but a poor student. She is a God. Enjoy.

. . . . . . . . .

Chapter Sixteen: Firsts

. . . . . . . . .

We dressed in silence after our passionate oaths. I made a conscientious effort to not turn away as I stripped off my nightdress and pulled on a brassiere and short undershorts. Edward did not hide the feral hunger that graced his perfected features and made me shiver with the sort of anticipation I had not felt often since his disappearance. Edward pulled on his own outdated clothing, and, gentleman that he was, he offered me his arm as we descended the stairs and exited the house.

September in New York city was still quite warm by day and cooler by night, so we strolled through the somewhat choked and dirty streets several blocks, just talking. He asked questions – mostly about Eddie – and I answered, feeling less and less pain with each round of questioning. Remembering the smiling boy rather than the mutilated corpse was therapeutic while watching Edward's unadulterated reactions was even more so.

"What foods did he like? What sports did he play? Did he have an aptitude for music? Did he have school friends? Was he helpful?"

The questions poured out of Edward's perfect lips faster than I could answer, and I had to focus hard to answer each of them, sometimes needing him to repeat a question so I could give him a proper answer.

"He enjoyed Italian, he loved baseball, he played piano a little but preferred drawing, he had lots of friends, and he was always looking after me. He asked me many times to bring home a new father so he wouldn't have to be the man of the house anymore," I said with a laugh. Edward's smile tightened and I registered the sadness lining his eyes.

"But I would always tell him why I could not – my heart belonged to you and it would not be fair to any man to subject him to that knowledge. Then he would answer 'My father must be a great man to have earned your love and loyalty, Mother.' And then he would kiss or hug me and ask 'Am I like him?' He was… He was a lot like you, Edward."

"Stubborn as a mule and hopelessly slave to you?"

"Stubborn as a mule, kind, loyal, generous, determined, ambitious… Everything you are and more, Edward."

We wound up strolling central park, he leading me along by his proffered arm, I following contently at his side. We were hopelessly enwrapped in our own little world, speaking in near-whispers, our heads close together and our bodies brushing as we strolled at our own pace.

"He loved you so much, Bella," he whispered to me after a rare moment of silence since our departure from the townhouse. I looked up at him and saw that his eyes were once again agonized. "I saw everything! Everything you sacrificed for him, everything he knew you did for his wellbeing, all of the pain and anger he had when he saw that you were sad, the happiness when he saw you smile or when you praised him. He adored you as much as I do, worshipped you! To think that I- I had a part in his–"

I put a hand to his lips.

"I forbid you to speak like that again, Edward. You stayed away, why? To protect us from what you think you are, isn't that so? And had you not found him, then what, Edward? Not one of my loves missing without explanation, but two– You may not have been able to save him from death, but you saved me from not knowing, and you saved me from loneliness. Your existence as you are has nothing to do with his murder!" my insistence, though breathed in a whisper, rang unopposed in the quiet between us. His eyes lightened just a little and I lifted my gloved hand to his cheek, stroking it gently.

"Stop berating yourself for something you could not help, Edward. He would have adored you had he had the time to know you. He admired you deeply and smiled whenever I compared you to him. He told me this year that he was going to study hard and take the barrister exams to be a lawyer, like you, when he finished college."

"He did..?" Edward asked, the sadness fading completely to be replaced by hopefulness and adoration of the son he never got to know.

"He did. I wish you could see _my _mind, so I could put your guilt and fear to rest. You are not to blame, at all, and despite your absence he has always been and always be _your_ son. Utterly incorrigible and impossibly stubborn!"

Edward laughed and I marveled at the honeyed bell-tones. It became easier to talk then. He spoke of his time away from me. Explained the things I did not understand, his life with Dr. Carlisle Cullen and the secrecy he maintained. He also explained the difference between the Dr.'s growing coven and the monsters that roamed the night.

"The choice to sustain ourselves solely by animals is difficult, but he sees it as a necessary discomfort for the greater good of humanity. He sees us as a somewhat mutated species of human. We also share the air, we think and feel, and we can die, though it is quite a bit harder for us. Therefore, he believes it is wrong to hunt humans for sustenance when animals do. I… disagreed. I thought, since I have the unique ability to filter the thoughts of the wicked from the pure, there was no evil in annihilating those that would harm the innocent. I was… hunting when I came across the thoughts of the monster. I became distracted and decided to see his intentions, intervene if necessary. But after finding you Bella, I swear I will take no part in playing God. When I left to hunt last night I went to the forests. I cannot in good conscience do it anymore… Even if they're evil I can still hear their thoughts, their fear, their horror…

"Anyway, I think it is high time I return to Carlisle. He was right. He always is, of course. It only took finding you again to realize it," he told me cheerfully as we passed the zoo.

"I can come with you, you said. You promised me eternity… Am I right in assuming that means," I lowered my voice to a barely-audible whisper, "you will make me like you?" Edward frowned slightly, but nodded.

"Not I. I could not, but Carlisle could. But you have to realize Bella that immortality is not all it seems. It is not glamorous. You will have me but little else. And it hurts, my love, more than any pain you have ever experienced," Edward muttered with a scowl. "It feels as if you have been lit on fire, charred to a crisp, then burned again for good measure. It last roughly three days, and I'm not sure that even with the help of drugs there would be a way to lessen the pain."

"I don't care," I told him resolutely, looking him in the eye. I knew that he would search for weakness in my conviction and knew he would find none. "I need to be with you, forever, Edward And soon."

He groaned and pouted a little, drawing me into a sudden hug.

"I'll be killing you, essentially, Bella. Why do you rush to pain me, so?"

"I'm twenty-seven, nearing twenty-eight years old, and you want me to wait? I'm already ten years older than you, Edward!"

"You are no such thing, Bella!"

"You're hopelessly blind!"

"Are half the men we've passed also blind? Despite your so-called age the rest of the male population of Manhattan seem to find you just as attractive as I do, you know," he informed me matter-of-factly with an impossibly handsome smirk on his lips. I flushed scarlet and stomped ahead a little bit before he caught my arm, pulling it around his again.

"I do not want to wait. Before the thirteenth I want to be just like you."

"A monster?"

"Bullet-proof."

"You always _did_ seem to have a somewhat irksome magnetism for disaster."

"Har-har," I answered in a sardonic laugh.

"And that charming little sense of humor!" he teased. I elbowed him in the side and winced when I felt my funny bone collide with granite-hard flesh.

"Ow…"

Edward merely rolled his eyes at me and knelt to kiss away the pain. His eyes, smoldering beneath his dark lashes as he looked up at me did the trick even if his cool lips soothed the ache. They were almost amber today instead of burgundy or black.

"Why did your eye color change?" I asked quietly, hoping I was not asking an embarrassing question.

"I changed my diet," he answered simply.

"How does that work?"

"I haven't an idea, except that it must have something to do with the type of proteins in animal blood versus that of a human. Or perhaps it is more spiritual. That would be a question to ask Carlisle, when we meet him tomorrow."

"Wow… Do you think he'll like me?"

"Without a doubt, my love."

"So what else do you want to do on this so-called 'date'?"

"I thought we could see a movie. There's a theatre near by, is there not?"

So we went to the movies. It dawned on me that we had never done this before. In fact, we had never had what the youngsters now called "dates" before. Our courtship had been chaperoned and monitored by societal formalities. It was strange, after all this time, to walk hand-in-hand in public without feeling embarrassed about it.

"I think Mr. Disney is going to be a rich man," I said with a smile. "Steamboat Willie" had played before the feature film. I thought it was adorable. Eddie would have loved it.

"I think it's the first of many short toons, but I don't think he'll make it that big," Edward answered. "It's true that a lot of them found it amusing but it won't be enough to make him a millionaire."

"Well, _I_ still think you're wrong. In another decade you owe me another date if I turn out to be right."

"And if you're wrong, Bella? It's not ladylike to gamble."

"I'll owe _you_ a first."

"Such as?"

"I haven't a clue right now, it's not fair to ask immediately! It would spoil the surprise, anyway!"

He laughed again and I could not help but be enchanted all over again.

"I do believe that you're making me fall for you all over again, Mr. Masen."

"And I'm delighted that you're so easily charmed, Mrs. Masen."

Hand in hand, we walked down Broadway and into Harlem for dinner. The little café was situated in the heart of Harlem. It was lit up with little tea candles and a Jazz band played the blues on a makeshift stage. The throaty voice of the singer harmonized with the sax and we were both lulled into the relaxed atmosphere as we waited for our entrees.

"Why New York?" he asked as I sipped my Coca Cola from a straw, thankful that the bottle had been chilled.

"It was far away from Chicago, but still had a big-city feel. I knew I could find a good school here for Eddie and that I would have work. I wanted him to be cultured and there are always seats for the Broadway shows for discount in the nosebleed section, not to mention the music and the melding cultures and everything else."

"Hm."

"Plus… it was far away, at least a little," I continued after his noncommittal response and still-curious eyes. "After you disappeared and were proclaimed dead along with Elizabeth, and then Charlie…I needed to get away before I drove myself crazy and Eddie along with me. We left when he was three, big enough to travel. He charmed everyone on the trains we rode. Stood up in the seat and yelled the names of things we passed. And in the taxis once we got here."

"Smart tyke."

"Very much like you, from what Elizabeth told me."

"Angela has a boy and a girl now."

"How old?"

"Ten and Twelve, I think. I don't stay in touch as much as I used to."

"Ready to order?" asked the curvy African-American waitress. Her dark eyes sparkled exotically beneath a fringe of thick lashes. Her hair was cut into the face-framing bob most flappers sported, and her uniform and apron accented her young figure in a way that mad me green with envy. I frowned, as she looked my seventeen-year-old husband up and down. Damned aging. Edward turned to me, forcing her to turn her attention to me. She sighed and hitched the smile back into place.

"May I take your order, ma'am?" she asked, emphasizing the "ma'am."

"I'll have the chicken, please, and strawberries with cream for dessert."

"And you, handsome?"

I wished for my sixteen-year-old body and twenty-two inch waist.

"Nothing, thank you. Just two more Cokes, please," he said without looking away from me. He started kissing the fingers of my left hand slowly, his lips brushing from my fingertips to my knuckles and back again, repeating the action on each one from thumb until pinky, then turning it over palm-up to trace the paths over again.

I could not fight the blush that rose in my cheeks or the hitch in my breath.

"It's ridiculous how much you affect me with just, that," I gasped softly, vainly attempting to slow my heart rate.

"It's even more ridiculous that you think I'll let you escape," he whispered as I tried to pull my hand away from him just for Edward to capture the other in his grasp. But before he cold work me into hyperventilating, the waitress brought my entrée and two more Cokes after removing the bottles from the table.

I was far hungrier than I imagined, barely taking the time to wait for my food to cool before plunging into it. I scalded my tongue and throat and could not taste the creamy vegetables and chicken but did not care.

"I do not feed you enough," Edward said with a frown. I tried not to laugh after swallowing a wonderfully filling bite of pie.

"You've only been with me for two days."

"I'm your husband and I let you starve yourself."

"No, you're my husband and you gave me time to cope and grieve before shoveling unwanted food in my mouth and contributing to my already too-large waistband," I grumbled in way of argument. Edward made a point of looking me up and down, the look in his eyes making me shiver again.

"I assure you, Bella, that you're just as delectable looking if not more so. You're beautiful," he said in such a reverent voice that I decided argument would get me nowhere. I changed the subject after a couple more bites of steaming deliciousness.

"We're going to see Carlisle tomorrow?"

"Yes. Once you're packed and asleep I'll run us both to him."

"Run?"

"One of the advantages of this existence is speed, Bella, love," he clarified with a joyful smile.

"And then?"

"We'll discuss your… renovations with him and until we can manage them, you and I will be together in married bliss."

"Marital bliss?" I asked, arching my eyebrows. I remembered one thing specifically from my "marital bliss" that I missed almost as much as I missed _him_. He contemplated my hopeful expression for a moment before frowning.

"I'm not sure that would be such a good idea, Bella. I am quite a bit stronger than you, and from what I've unwillingly witnessed in my – I suppose you could call them my _cousins_ – trysts between vampires and mortals does not end… well, to say the least," he said with a hint of disgust lacing his words.

"Cousins? What have they done?"

"Before they changed their diets they sometimes indulged in games of seduction before their meals," Edward continued, scowling darkly. I shuddered at the image in my head. "They never ended well. The, ah, trysts, were a prelude to the feast, and never ended without a few crushed bones at least."

"Ah… I… see," I said with wide eyes. But surely Edward and I would be different. "Maybe… if you asked Carlisle. You've shown tremendous control with me already, Edward, maybe it wouldn't be–"

"I will not risk your life for my pleasure, or even yours."

With that I decided I would let it be for now.

The return home took less time. We rode in a taxi and Edward carefully deposited me in bed after inquiring about what I would like to pack. I was asleep by the time he started rushing around to collect the items I mentioned.

In my dreams, I felt him beside me, holding me, caressing me, loving me the way he used to. In my dreams, the pain was over, and my skin was just as luminescent and resilient as his. We were once again equals, and the longing and grief in his eyes had dissolved and yielded to joy. I marveled a little at how I took everything he said as truth, without question. I recognized that if anyone else had told me that vampires existed and roamed the nights, I would have scoffed. But in his velvet voice, under his gentle but hard touch, it was a simple matter of reasoning to arrive at the appropriate conclusion. My world was hopelessly intertwined with the not so mythical, and acceptance meant survival _with_ Edward.

I woke inhaling his sweet, not-quite-place-able scent and felt hard arms around my waist. His cool breath whispered over my sleep-warmed cheeks, blowing stray strands of hair away from my face. I cracked my eyes open just a little to look up at Edward's smiling face.

"You slept in my arms all the way back to LaCrosse."

"Where is that?" I asked somewhat sleepily as I burrowed deeper into the blankets and nuzzled his chest. I could feel his chuckle vibrate through him and smiled contentedly, not really caring where we were.

"Minnesota. Carlisle and Esme are waiting to meet you. Would you like to go to the main house or stay in bed longer, my angel?"

"Mmm… Five more minutes, darling," I moaned into his chest while I clung to him tighter. I glanced up at Edward's face to find his eyes sparkling with amusement and beautiful butterscotch in color.

"You hunted again?"

"You were soundly asleep for nine hours before I decided I would rather not leave you once you woke. We're somewhat ensconced by wilderness so hunting is very easy here. I thought it would be an ideal location for your recovery after we…"

"Ah."

"Even though I despise myself for taking away your chances at Heaven, Bella… I cannot help but be grateful that you will join me. I feel like I am taking everything and giving nothing! Before you go through with this, is there anything you want of me?"

"…I have an idea. But I want you to tell me something first. Be completely honest with me, Edward. Do not spare me any of the details no matter how frightening you think I will find them," I said, squaring my shoulders as much as I could from the position between his arms. He considered for a moment.

"Very well."

"When you were a newborn, what was it like? Did you recognize the Doctor? How was your self-control? How long until you could be around humans again?"

"It was terrifying. The first time I killed I was disgusted with myself. And I cheated often in the beginning and again when Esme joined us. Indulging in my base instincts gave me more distance from the pain of losing you, Bella. I did not recognize the doctor immediately. My self control, according to Carlisle, was better than his as a newborn but that can probably be attributed to my unique gift. It was three years before I could be around humans without losing control of my thirst. Five before I could walk among them for any length of time. This is the first time I've stayed in a human's presence for more than a few hours."

"Everything you did was driven by thirst?"

"Yes. Absolutely everything. That and secrecy as a necessity to survival."

"And… this feeling I have with you?"

"I was not aware of any other physical desire until Carlisle found Esme. I missed you, longed for your company and wellbeing, but I did not _need_ in that way," Edward said honestly and delicately.

"So nearly ten years? To feel like I do now?"

"Roughly. Why do you ask, Bella?" He asked, his voice slipping into the velvet tones he seemed to use when he meant to be persuasive. Edward's cool lips against mine, then my cheek, and my throat distracted me while I tried to remember exactly why I had pursued that line of questioning.

"Mmmm… Right now, I feel desire for you foremost. I want…" I hesitated, blushing. Edward stroked his hand across my cheek and I thawed, biting my lower lip and mumbling. "I want _you_, right this moment, Edward. More than I need the air to breathe I _need_ you."

"I do not understand, Bella. What does that have to do with your questions?"

"I don't want to lose this, yet. Not quite. I don't want to wait another decade to _want_ you again, Edward. Please. I want you to be with me as my husband before you change me, so I have the memory to sustain me until the pain and thirst fade." I whispered, unable to meet his gaze. Edward held stalk-still, his arms still clutching me to his chest. "When you change me, all I'll want is to murder everyone and everything around me, so… First, please give me the love both of us deserve." I felt him shift slightly and bit my lip as he tilted my face up to meet his gaze. I do not know what he found in my eyes as I searched his beautiful topaz depths, but he finally sighed and held me tighter.

"I will discuss it with Carlisle. After… After _that_ my whole being cowers at the thought of losing another of my loves. I _may_ have the restraint necessary to… Bella, you make things impossibly difficult for me! Anything you could ask for and you ask this? The one thing I would so willingly give you if only…"

His hand clenched into a claw around the fabric at my hip and I shivered. The frustration in his face faded slightly and he sighed once more.

"It's time you met Carlisle and Esme. I want you to stay close to me. Esme is still new to this, and though she's prepared it will likely be hard for her. After that, I imagine you two will get along quite well. Even with my brief time knowing her she's become something of a mother figure… You'll understand what I mean in a moment."

"I feel like when I first formally met Anthony and Elizabeth. I was scared to death!"

"Do not worry, my love. I will let no harm befall you."

"Do you consider them your immortal parents, Edward? You speak so respectfully of Carlisle…"

"It is hard to _not_ feel that way, especially after being inside their minds. They are so impossibly _good_, Bella!"

"…I imagine this must be the first time a mortal woman met her immortal in-laws."

Edward's answering laugh rang through the hall as he escorted me down the stairs and into a bright living room. I looked at the floor as we entered, afraid to meet the man who would grant me an eternity with my love.

. . . . . . .

A/N: I would like to thank everyone who has taken the time to read and review. Though I know typing this monstrosity takes up a large chunk of my free and not-so-free time I know it takes you all just as long to muck through my little creation. I hope you've enjoyed thus far. I am currently attempting to get at least another chapter up by the end of business today, because I am beginning to fall behind on work-type work. With that said, the promised happy ending is not far in the future.

After the completion of this fiction I will be posting a poll pertaining to offshoots of this. I am toying with the idea of an Alice & Jasper fiction, as well as an epilogue for _Breaking Dawn_, after which I am not quite sure what I may or may not do.

-Forensica X


	17. Olympians

A/N: Thank you so much, Wisconsinite, for pointing out that La Crosse is in Wisconsin. I've recently remedied that error. Thank you! Sometimes when I write these things I'm working from big maps or zoomed in section of Google Maps, so I miss boundary lines.

To my other readers, thank you so much for your patience and praise. It keeps me happy. With great pleasure, I announce that this chapter will be host to citrusy goodness.

Disclaimer (Again!): I never have and never will own anything mentioned in SM's Twilight. I am but a poor student. She is a God. Enjoy.

. . . . . . . . .

Chapter Seventeen: Olympians

. . . . . . . . .

My heart beat wildly as I descended the stairs on Edward's arm. I could not help but wonder at the size of the place! Just in passing through the upstairs corridor I noticed at least three other bedrooms off the hall, along with sitting rooms for each. Belatedly, I realized Edward must have put me in a smaller guest room aside from the other suites so as to not overwhelm me. A lot of good it did – all around me the furnishings screamed "Opulence!"

The living room – dressed as it was in its plush finery – would have distracted completely from any occupant except for the Zeus-like man and his equally magnificent companion standing in the middle of the room. The man – Dr. Carlisle – smiled easily upon seeing me on Edward's arm. The woman, who I assumed to be Esme, smiled just as gently by his side, though her features and posture suggested a little more tension.

"Bella, how wonderful to see you up and about. Edward has been ecstatic since your arrival earlier!"

He opened his arms in welcome and I smiled up at him, hardly believing my eyes. Who could think that another being as perfect as Edward could exist? And to find that not only did he exist, but he seemed to want to welcome _me_ into his world.

"It's a pleasure to see you again, Dr. Carlisle," I demurred. Edward's throaty chuckle caused a flush to rise in my cheeks. He pulled me into his embrace and the redness and heat deepened.

"You're absolutely adorable, Bella! And so polite! I'm no wonder Edward's so taken with you," said Esme, her eyes crinkling just a little with a brilliant smile. I felt I was being dazzled from three directions. Despite my happiness, I felt a twinge of pain as I pondered my new place in the world, among this family.

My Eddie. Without whom Edward would not have found me – sacrificed to a beast – but in death drawing out the other half of my heart. I bit into my lower lip as moisture sprung to my eyes. A shudder ran through me and I tried to choke back the sob that threatened to escape my lips. Before I could control myself once more, the three angles responded so quickly that I did not see them move. Edward's arms, which had been holding me already, were joined by another set of smaller, cooler limbs. Esme stroked my cheeks gently as worry creased her brow. Her other arm steadied me and Carlisle pressed his palm to my forehead.

"Are you alright, darling?" Esme asked me softly. I shook my head in misery.

"Tell us what's the matter, dear girl," encouraged Carlisle. I noticed through the tears suddenly streaming over my cheeks that their touches were feather light. They handled me like one would fine crystal or china. I looked up at Edward and recognized the same pain etched into his alabaster features. He shook his head just a little. He hadn't told them, then.

I held my tongue. I could not bring myself to say it. _My son is dead_. The words echoed through my hollow soul and consumed me in another wave of agony. _If only vampires did not exist, then…_ _Edward would not have returned, either._ More guilt, more pain accompanied the thought. If vampires did not exist, then Esme and Carlisle would not have continued being. Edward, my reason to breathe, now, would not be.

_But Eddie would_, the sad voice in my mind said. _Edward _should_ have gone on to heaven. He should not be here. _Eddie_ should._

I felt my knees give out but I never reached the floor. Broken sobs left my lips as Edward carried me to a chaise lounge. Esme sat by me, stroking my hair and cooing comforting nonsense in my ear as I cried. I thought I had cried myself out. How could I still have more tears? My son, my poor son, was gone, buried, but Edward was still here. He could love me and take care of me. And there I sat, sobbing again, hurting him further. I crossed my arms over my abdomen and forced myself into a sitting position. Forcing myself to take deep breaths, I finally regained my composure, only hiccupping between intervals of deep, slow breathing. Esme held me to her side gently, running a hand over my back in slow circles.

"What's the matter, Bella?" Esme begged me softly. How could she sound so loving? She barely knew me. She was younger than me, I was sure. Maybe twenty or so. How could she remind me so much of my own mother?

"I…"

"I am a fool, Esme," Edward agonized, the tortured expression back on his face. "Had I believed what my heart knew, we…"

"We had a son," I whispered, feeling the familiar burn of pain that accompanied my new use of the past tense in reference to my little boy.

Esme let out a gasp and a strange, dry sob. Her arms were tight around me suddenly.

"There was another vampire stalking New York along with me. A monster worse than us. He _enjoyed_…" Edward's voice trailed off, disgust obvious in his posture and his tone. His face settled into pain again as he told them of our son's fate. "He found our Eddie."

My lower lip trembled but I did not cry again. Esme's haunted eyes caught mine and she embraced me again, seemingly never to let go.

"I see," Carlisle sighed, grasping Edward's shoulder. "Then… If this is what you want, I won't stop you," Carlisle said. "I'll do anything I can to help you and Edward, Bella," he assured me, taking my hand in his. "But not until you've rested and healed a little."

Edward nodded and sat on my other side, tilting my face and kissing my jaw.

"I don't want you to be in so much pain when you join this existence," he whispered softly. "Everything is more… intense in this body."

"But…" I thought of my age and his. I already looked old enough to be his mother.

"No 'buts' Bella," he said with a smile, reading my distress on my face. "You are just as lovely as the day I married you, my love. Nothing will ever change that." I glared up at my angel a little testily. I did not care if I was acting like a petulant child. I knew it shouldn't matter – we were made for each other – but I hated feeling _old_.

"Now, aren't you hungry, Bella?" Esme said finally, smiling a little though her eyes were still tight with pain for our loss. I nodded with a weak grin and she rose gracefully, pulling me with her. She walked me to the kitchen and I found myself amazed at the grandeur of the place again. I sat beside her at the kitchen island while Edward offered me some fruit.

"I'm afraid we don't have very much else right now," Carlisle said apologetically. "You understand, of course… we only buy food to keep up appearances. Esme and I will go buy groceries again later."

"It's fine. Thank you," I said before indulging in the apple. While I ate, Esme and Carlisle struck up a conversation with Edward. Listening to them, especially Esme, worry about Edward, I gladdened. It was easy to tell that they loved him, and though I knew Edward had been lonely, I also knew that these two would not have let him mope about while in their presence. It was impossible to feel despair when Esme smiled, or Carlisle laughed. Zeus and Aphrodite. Two Olympians cast in marble and animated. And Edward, an Apollo in his own right. I smiled in response to their happiness, and hoped that I would be able to make them as happy as Edward did.

Carlisle left us in the early afternoon to report to the local hospital. Esme departed soon after to go to the grocer, while Edward took it upon himself to show me around the house. He brought me outside first to admire the beautiful lake and the trees. The marvel of his skin in the sunshine made me stare in amazement, and the warmth and beauty of the sun on the vast lawns made us both pause and enjoy our surroundings and company. Once it had retreated behind the clouds, Edward escorted me back up the sloping lawns to the house. I found that I focused less on his words and more on the sound of his voice. It still amazed me that he actually stood beside me, alive, and in love with me.

I paused, a wooden cross catching my attention. The dark, exquisite wood was somewhat roughly hewn, but still glistened subtly in the light.

"That's Carlisle's," said Edward, following my gaze.

"It must be hundreds of years old," I mused.

"His father carved it, circa 1600 in England."

"Carlisle's English?" I asked with a little surprise.

"Yes, I suppose if we go on origin he is English... Would you like to hear the tale in its entirety?"

"I'd love to."

And so Edward led me to another room, his honeyed voice telling the horror of Carlisle's creation. As the tale progressed, he pointed to paintings mounted on the wall of the vast library and office. When he arrived at Carlisle's stay in Volterra and gestured to the ornately framed painting dominating the west wall, I shuddered.

"They look like gods," I muttered a little apprehensively.

"They _are_ intimidating, I suppose. But they're not all so bad, from what Carlisle's told me. They don't agree about our diet, of course, but they act as our guardians in a sense. Without them, our world would collapse." Edward's tone shifted from nonchalance to dim admiration. He still had such respect for the peacekeepers and warriors of the free world.

"They're frightening," I said softly. "Aro… You described him a collector of fine things and knowledge. He sounds like he thinks himself a God. It's how he had his artist portray him, anyway," I said a little argumentatively. Edward cocked his head to the side as he pondered the portrait, his brows furrowing in thought.

"I think we should not pass judgment without meeting them ourselves, though you may have the right of it, Bella."

He continued Carlisle's story, moving to more recent photographs until he finally stopped at his first encounter with Esme. I sighed and smiled at the romanticism.

"She admired him even then? And she found him again after all that time…"

"I suppose Carlisle has a way of being in the right place at the right time," Edward admitted ruefully. "He diagnosed your pregnancy, saved me from the influenza… found Esme again."

"I was right then." I smiled in satisfaction, letting the words hang in the air. I knew Edward would not refuse the bait.

"About?"

"You're all Angels. And Carlisle's the head angel."

His answering snort of amusement made me dissolve into giggles.

"It's not… Hellish, I suppose – at least not now that I have you again. But we did not choose this, Bella."

"I'll thank him till the day I die for saving you, Edward. I can think of no one more deserving of a second chance than you, Esme, and Carlisle."

"You won't ever die if you go through with this…"

"Then I'll thank him until the end of existence."

"You're ridiculous, Bella," he grumbled darkly.

"And you're just as stubborn as I am," I said with a smirk, tickling his side. To my surprise he shivered and squirmed.

"Stop it."

"Why?" I giggled, feeling playful all of a sudden. I tickled him again. Edward caught my fingers, frowning.

"Because you're going to get yourself into trouble, Bella. Despite appearances I'm a completely different beast from you."

"Oh? You seem the same to me. Still ticklish!"

I took advantage of his loose hold to attack his middle again. He gasped and caught my wrists in an iron=hard grip.

"_No_, Bella… You don't know what you're doing to me! Please stop… I don't want to hurt you," Edward growled, looking away, his lips pursed. I stuck out my lower lip and examined his face again, my brows furrowing. How odd that he'd react that way.

"You didn't _used_ to be such a killjoy, Edward Masen," I grouched.

"And _you_ didn't used to be so difficult, Mrs. Masen," he said with a smirk. Before I could continue into the hall, Edward caught me about the waist and held me to him. His breath whispered across my throat while his hands slid over my abdomen to my hips, then back up again. His fingertips traced fiery trails and a shiver ran down my spine.

"I see you react the same, though," he breathed, the throaty sound of his voice making me shudder again.

"Stop, Edward," I hissed, blushing furiously, my eyes darting to railing and the floor below.

"It's payback, Bella. So you learn not to tempt me so anymore."

"Oh," I said with realization. I only meant to tickle, though. "It wasn't on purpose," I hissed as his hands slid higher on my torso.

"Well then, this is a complete accident as well," he chuckled, placing a soft kiss at the base of my neck.

He pulled away, leaving me feeling unfulfilled and restless. Damned gorgeous vampire and his too-wonderful touch.

"I hate you just a bit right now," I grumped as he took my arm again, leading me down the stairs.

"But you love it," he said lightly. And I did, of course. Who could argue with masculine perfection?

The day passed into night and Esme returned with her arm wrapped around Carlisle's. She helped me prepare dinner for myself while Carlisle and Edward chatted. As far as I could tell, they conversed about my "renovations," as Edward referred to it. Esme kept me distracted with magic words like "indoor swimming pool" and "observatory" and "university." The more I spoke with her, the more I came to love her. The same went for Carlisle. His gentle voice and smile made me feel warm and loved, and Edward's quiet presence beside me comforted my aching heart more than anything. Despite my interest in everything and my desire to stay awake, I found myself drifting off close to ten. I was barely aware of myself when the clock struck eleven, but I registered Edward's arms around me as he carried me to his bedroom.

Too tired to open my eyes, I sighed and laid in compliance as Edward's gentle touch removed my dress and slid a nightdress over my head before tucking me beneath the blanket and pulling my wrapped body to his chest.

We lay there in silence for several moments while I fought to keep my eyes from closing. He hummed my lullaby into my hair, and it was a hard fight to maintain consciousness.

"Edward?"

"Yes, Bella?"

"Do you think we could…?"

"Could what, Bella?"

"I miss you," I almost whined, rolling over to face him. I snuggled into his chest in content, happy to have his arms around me again. Despite my age, I did not feel old here, in the dark, pressed against my frozen husband. It was like it always us for us – natural, two pieces to the same soul.

"How can you miss me when I am holding you, my love?"

"I mean… like this," I said, glad that the darkness hid my blush. I guided his hand to my thigh with a shiver. The silence was broken by Edward's hiss.

"_No_, Bella."

"Why not?"

"…"

"Edward?"

"Watch," my angel commanded. He had removed the chain of his pocket watch and held it for me to see. With a fluid movement he let it coil in his palm. As I watched, he closed his hand into a fist, clenched his fingers gently, and opened them for me to see again. In his hand, in a perfect mold of his palm, lay a crushed brass ball. Like a balled up bit of paper. I tried to hide my swallow of nerves but he chuckled, obviously noticing.

"I didn't mean…"

"I am strong yet gentle with you, is what you were going to say, yes?"

"Well, yes," I said a little defiantly.

"Bella, do you remember the last time we made love?" Edward whispered adoringly into my hair. I buried my face in his shirt, his coolness counteracting my blush wonderfully.

"You know neither of us can think very much of control when we're so preoccupied. Now, when I've nearly forgotten your touch, when I am far more distractible, how can you ask me to risk my losing focus? Such a lapse would be disastrous, Bella."

I could not see his face but I felt the waver in his velvet tones and the fear.

"You wouldn't hurt me, Edward," I mumbled against his chest, feeling my tiredness catching up with me again. "You couldn't."

"Sleep, now, my only love. We'll talk later. But I won't ever risk you again… Not to illness, loneliness, not even to myself."

And as soon as he began humming my lullaby again, I lost the will to continue the argument. My eyelids drooped and my mind was lulled into the ease of sleep in his arms.

I woke with a gasp, struggling against Edward's gentle hold. My hair stuck to my sweaty forehead and a senseless sob shook me.

"It's not real..!" I moaned, clutching Edward desperately.

"Of course not, Bella, love, it was just a dream. You're safe," he assured me, stroking my cheeks. I sobbed again, tears obscuring my vision of his worried face.

"All gone, oh, oh, oh…" I whimpered, burrowing into his shirt.

"I have you, Bella, you're fine," he said softly. "Tell me what happened?" he begged, trying to ease my tears.

"Oh, Edward..!" I gasped, clinging to him.

"Tell me, Bella, please," he begged again, his voice cracking a little in response to my obvious pain.

"We… we were back home," I said softly, knowing he'd understand that I was speaking about Chicago.

"Yes? What happened?" he encouraged. I bit my lip, hesitating, before disentangling my arms from the sheets and pulling him to me. My lips met his and he groaned softly at my sudden attack.

"Bella, stop, what's the matter?"

"I need… please, Edward," I whimpered, dissolving into tears again. I looked up at him, knowing my expression must be a mirror of his – agony, confusion, desire. Suddenly his eyes tightened into determination and he kissed me carefully before rolling on top of me. He balanced his weight on his elbows as his lips captured mine, then trailed down my throat.

I tangled my fingers in Edward's hair while he kissed his way over my body. I was barely cognizant of the sounds coming from my lips. My world had narrowed into the heat of flesh upon flesh and the white-hot pleasure that encapsulated me. A ripping sound broke through my trance long enough for me to witness Edward's method for ridding us of the cotton barriers between our bodies. My nightdress in shreds, Edward continued his journey lower. He kissed between my breasts and lower, making my body arch in heady delight. My thighs clamped about his shoulders as he attacked my most intimate of places with his cool mouth. A deep, thrumming growl emanated from his chest as he continued his assault. I shuddered, close to a climax-

"Edward..!"

But I was to be disappointed. Edward pulled away abruptly and I whimpered by way of complaint. Before I could register his movement, I found myself straddling his hips while his icy hands gripped the fevered flesh of my hips.

"I don't want to hurt you Bella…"

"I understand, Edward," I whispered into the heated dark. Bracing my hands on his sculpted chest, I raised my hips to mount my lover. His eyes smoldered through his night-black lashes. He gasped in stereo to my moan as we joined. _Not enough!_ I moved against Edward, meeting him, our bodies melding in a dance as old as time. When I tired, he took control, holding me tight, then tighter as I begged for more. Our kisses grew more desperate, more demanding, as we both climbed higher in our simultaneous pleasure. I wrapped my arms tight around my love's neck as he pressed me against the headboard, my legs wrapped similarly around his hips. His muscles moved silkily beneath my hands, arms, legs, mine clenching and going into spasms while I tried to squeeze him closer to me. The coiling, building pleasure in my center exploded and I screamed my release, Edward gasping along with me, his arms tight around my waist. Spent, I collapsed against Edward's chest while he murmured sweet nothings in my ear. Finally, blackness claimed me and I submitted to the peace of dreamless sleep.

. . . . . . .

A/N: Thank you everyone who read and reviewed and waited patiently. I will be posting less frequently, but will be continuing this story to its conclusion. I shall try to finish by Christmas hols. Also, if anyone with knack for grammar and writing could assist, I find myself in need of a Beta. Let me know through your signed review. So until my next update-

Love,

-Forensica X


	18. Fairytale

A/N: Everyone who reviewed and continue to review regularly, thank you very much. Everyone else, thank you for reading, but I truly wish you would let me know what you think. I am enrolled full-time in university. With life catching up to me, it's hard to stay motivated to post in a timely manner if I haven't the foggiest if anyone's actually enjoying this, or hating it, or something. I'm assuming people don't absolutely despise it because I haven't received anything resembling a flame except for one "I hate Bella" rant. Do let me know if you have the chance. Anonymous reviews are enabled.

Disclaimer: I never have and never will own anything mentioned in SM's Twilight. I am but a poor student. She is a God. Enjoy.

. . . . . . . . .

Chapter Eighteen: Fairytale

. . . . . . . . .

The sunshine streaming through the windows felt delightfully warm against my bare skin. Edward's skin only felt a few degrees cooler than mine after a night of cuddling against his chest and a morning of basking in the sunlight. Slowly, I became aware of his feather-light touch drifting up and down my spine.

"Good morning," I sighed against his chest. If the world were to end now, I think I would be perfectly happy. Lying in Edward's arms was a pleasure reserved for heaven in my mind. It took several more moments of Edward's continued silence for me to open my eyes and look up at him. A carefully controlled expression of neutrality covered my love's face. The blankness, above the silence and absolute stillness aside from his feathery caresses, pulled me out of my euphoria.

"What's the matter, Edward?"

"…Did I hurt you?"

"Do I look or sound hurt?" I half laughed, half groaned in exasperation. To my pleasure, Edward's face lit up in a triumphant smile.

"Aside from a little bruising, no. But you were rather… vocal. I was too caught up to comprehend whether it was a positive utterance or not," Edward muttered, his smile crumpling into worry as his fingertips traced from my temple to my chin and back up.

"It feels no different than it used to, unless it's even better. Actually, I'm very sure it is," I nearly giggled. It was ridiculously difficult to keep a straight face while talking to my angel. Finally Edward's beautiful lips broke into a smile once more.

"Well, Mrs. Masen. It sounds as if you enjoyed our evening's activities nearly as much as I. I know for a fact that I have never experienced such a pleasure. How would you feel if we attempted to top it?"

The laugh bubbled past my lips before I could stop it and Edward's answering chuckle made the sheets tremble against my skin. The lovely sensation of Egyptian cotton against my sun-kissed nerve endings did such interesting things to me that the conversation effectively ended there.

Much later in the afternoon, Edward carefully lifted me into a bath before joining me. The hot bath felt delightful, and Edward's cooler skin against my back felt comfortable. Normal. It was strange to think so, but it was as if nothing had changed. _He_ was still _my Edward_. His body felt the same beneath my fingertips, against my flesh, even if it yielded much less than before. His kisses, which were far gentler now than before, still burned me to my core. His feathery caresses sent trails of heat to my center and left me longing. And here, in the claw-footed tub with my husband running his hands through my wet locks, I felt more at home than I had since my dear son's birth.

As always, the thought of my boy sent a pang of pain through me. Edward's immediate response was to kiss my throat and pull me closer to his strong chest. He knew words would not ease the ache. He felt it too – perhaps as acutely as I. For a moment I wished that we could have that potential, still. Another child would not ease the loss of my Eddie… but it would help heal Edward. The pointless desire opened a new wound in my heart and I had to push hard to keep the wish from the forefront of my mind. Sharing such a thing would only cause him more pain. The soft touch of lips on my earlobe brought me from my musings.

"You know, it's incredibly frustrating to not know what you're thinking. More so than I could have ever imagined before. You're torturing me, Bella."

"Oh? How am I doing such a thing, Edward?" I asked as nonchalantly as I could while turning to face him. The milky white water swirled around me as I straddled his lap. Edward froze as our bodies touched in a different way and I could not help the smirk on my lips. A little ruefully I admitted that no longer was I a weak-kneed virgin of sixteen. It gave me incredible satisfaction to have the ability to distract him, quickly followed by annoyance at my age.

"In several ways, Bella," growled Edward in a tone that made me shiver. Too much more of this and we would never leave my new rooms. Before I could change my mind, I slipped from Edward's loose embrace and pulled a fluffy towel about me. Edward gave me a hungry glare from the tub but allowed me to leave the bathroom, grumbling so low that I could not distinguish the words.

"It would be quite poor of me to disregard Esme and Dr. Cullen's hospitality by staying in the room all day," I called as I wrapped my hair in the towel and walked to the armoire. I vaguely recalled Edward saying something about Esme stocking it while I was sleeping during one of the brief intermissions in our lovemaking. Ten years of abstinence after nearly nightly affection apparently made a woman insatiable. I wondered with a smile how immortality – and endless stamina – would affect that aspect of our married life.

"What are you smirking about now?" whispered my love. The proximity of his voice startled me a little. I cringed and frowned.

"Why don't you make any sound when you move? You were already too graceful before. Don't tell me you've reached the point where you float with gracefulness."

"You're absurd, Bella," Edward said while rolling his eyes. I could not help but feel comforted by the familiarity of the gesture.

"Whether _I'm _absurd or not, the vast gap between yourself and I is still ridiculous," I grumped while pulling on panty hose and garters. "You, frozen forever at glorious seventeen and I, aging older every blasted day. My waist pudgy, my eyes starting to wrinkle in the corners… I'm verifiably middle aged! I could be your mother!"

My hands were shaking too much for me to clasp the garter to my stocking now. My fingertips slipped against the metal once more before Edward's hand joined mine and made quick work of the undergarment. His fingers trailed from my wrist to my elbow, then caught my waist to turn me to face him.

"You're still _my _wife. And no one is allowed to criticize _my_ wife. Even if you weren't the goddess you are, I would love you Bella. Please, not another word. For me?" begged Edward, his beautiful amber eyes smoldering through his thick, dark lashes. Damned Adonis…

"…"

"Please."

"… You'll be pleased to know _your_ son got whatever he wanted when he used that look, too."

Edward's pout spread into a triumphant grin and I could not help but smile as well. Who wouldn't in the presence of such beauty?

"Finish dressing and I'll take you to lunch. The town is lovely. It will take a couple of weeks for Carlisle to prepare for your renovations, so I want to show you around. We'll do whatever you like. There's a library, as well, though it doesn't quite compare to Chicago's," Edward gushed.

"That'd be lovely. I feel as if I haven't been outdoors in a week."

Edward chuckled.

After I was dressed, brushed, perfumed, and pinned into place, Edward served me breakfast, led me through the beautiful house and showed me to the garage. He held open the door of a butter-yellow Oldsmobile while I slipped in, mindful of my lovely chiffon, drop-waist gown. Along the way I had to ask Edward to slow down several times as he careened around sharp curves. Greenery whizzed past us rapidly, reaching from ground to sky so completely that I felt tiny in comparison. All in all the ride was disconcerting, but Edward took it all in stride, laughing and smiling all the way.

Finally, the forest and graveled road gave way to cobblestones. La Crosse was a lovely little village on a lake, and the quaintness of it reminded me of my first home. Edward parked the car at a coffee shop. The passerby paused and stared at his glamorous automobile. I blushed a little as Edward opened my door for me and helped me out. Some women tittered disapprovingly from the other side of the street and it took all my effort not to ask to go home.

"Hm… I suppose we'll have to think of something," sighed Edward casually. I frowned, confused at the random remark.

"In regard to what, exactly?"

"Your relation to me. Unfortunately it would seem strange of me to show up with a wife or fiancée without any preamble. Carlisle is the doctor for this town so they would have expected to hear _something_ in the way of an announcement. So what are we to say? I am Esme's brother in public. Perhaps you shall be our sister?"

"Your elder sister, you mean?"

"Bella," Edward sighed in exasperation.

"Esme hardly looks a day over twenty."

"Neither do you," Edward laughed.

"Now look who's saying absurd things…"

"I really wish you could hear what I hear, Bella. The men we've passed so far agree with my assessment," said Edward more than a little ruefully. I raised an eyebrow but chose not to respond, as we walked into a grocery.

"Hello, Mr. Masen," greeted the gray-haired clerk. He wiped his tanned hands on his apron before coming around the counter to shake Edward's hand. I smiled politely, glad that at least this person did not stare as if we were an exhibit in a zoo.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Jones. How are you doing today? How are Molly and the children?"

"Oh, fine, fine. Jessie finally has a hang of his arithmetic thanks to your sister. And who is this lovely young lady?" Mr. Jones turned toward me. I blushed and smiled at the compliment. Edward's smile shone with pride as he guided me forward lightly by my elbow. I extended my gloved hand while Edward made the introduction.

"This, Mr. Jones, is my gorgeous cousin from Illinois. Miss Bella Masen, Mr. Jones. Mr. Jones is town grocer and the finest carpenter this side of the Rockies," Edward added with a mischievous smile. Jones smiled and gave Edward a good-natured pat on the shoulder.

"I hope you know, Miss Bella, that Mr. Masen here is the biggest flatterer this side of the Rockies. Don't let him fool you for an instant."

"Oh, I know, Mr. Jones. I'm very aware of my dear _cousin's_ flattery."

"Now, that's not to say he's not a good young man. Why, he helped my son apply to university before he left for school himself."

"Careful, Mr. Jones. You'll inflate his ego… But yes, he is mildly tolerable most times."

The older man chuckled and patted my hand.

"Anyway," said Edward, smiling at the polite banter. "Would you be so kind as to supply us with whatever Bella likes? Esme's decided that Bella should have the absolute best of everything while she's visiting."

"Of course, Mr. Masen!"

"Thanks, Mr. Jones. You can have your delivery boy load up the Oldsmobile by the deli whenever everything's wrapped up."

"Of course, Mr. Masen. Now, Miss Bella, what would you like?"

It took several minutes of persuasion by both Edward and Mr. Jones before I would pick out all the foodstuffs and treats I'd be dining on for the next week. It was times like these that I was excessively grateful for certain modern amenities, such as iceboxes.

After we placed our order, Edward escorted me from the lovely little grocery to the street. He led me from store to store to look into windows and displays. Finally he pulled me into a dressmaker's salon to order more clothing for me. I was tempted to argue but by now I knew it would do little good. The pesky vampire would just return without me and purchase every little thing I had so much as glanced at let alone admired.

"What are you thinking?" Edward asked for the millionth time that day, as we were making our way back to the car.

"It's strange… how much things haven't changed, though everything's different now."

"How do you mean, Bella?" Edward asked with an adorable tilt of his head.

"How I feel. How I think about things. Those things are different, yet all else…. The way you treat me, the way _we_ are. That's just the same as it's always been. It's almost as if the last ten years didn't happen… But then I feel like I should be shot for thinking such things. My Eddie… I really am not sure how to behave," I finished in a whisper. By now we had reached the side of the yellow Oldsmobile. Edward paused with his hand on the door, his brow furrowed.

"As my wife… For as long as we both shall live, Bella. That will never change," Edward said so vehemently that I nearly cried.

"Well… In that case you should take your wife home," I whispered, my lips brushing Edward's cheek as I leaned toward him over the stick shift. "It's a poor husband that allows his wife to languor in longing."

It was in love, and in laughter that the week passed. Edward filled my days with music, laughter, car rides, stories, canoe cruises, picnics, and walks through the lush forest. Our nights were spent in each other's arms, without restraint on my part and (I suspect) much restraint on his. It took longer than it should have for me to realize that the doctor and his wife had been gone longer than Edward had expected. And despite the wonderful dream I found myself living, I prayed that Carlisle and Esme would return quickly and change me so that he would not have to feel so afraid of his nature. Every other night Edward would leave me in the early hours of the day to sate his thirst, and I would remain in bed missing him until his return. On such nights, I tried not to sleep in the hours of his absence. It was during these brief hours that the nightmares returned.

Or _the _nightmare. The _only_ one.

The first night Edward had to leave me, the night that he decided he would leave more often so as to be gone for shorter periods, I woke in tears.

Imprinted in my minds eye, my Eddie stood before me, covered in his own blood, a tiny child grasped in his arms. The baby cries, it's soft, chubby hands clutching desperately at my Eddie's soaked shirt. Then Eddie crumples and the baby curls against his chest. The beautiful little thing ceases its whimpers and the light leaves my Eddie's eyes.

I was still screaming when I woke, with Edward rubbing soothing circles into my back. The following discussion had been concluded in the agreement that he would not leave me for so long. I would not be given the chance to slip into a nightmare because I would not have time to miss him.

Belatedly, I was surprised to realize that I had not had a nightmare since arriving in La Crosse (excepting the one occurrence of _the _nightmare). The only conclusion was that Edward's comforting presence kept the terrors away. When I asked, Edward told me that I had been sleeping like the dead, without uttering a single word.

I was so incredibly happy I felt as if I was caught in a lovely dream. Edward even went so far as to cook for me so that I could better enjoy my brief interlude with him. My birthday, which had terrified me, came and went without incident. It was with great surprise that I realized my sense of disappointment upon Edward's announcement that Carlisle and Esme were returning from wherever they had been.

"When should they arrive?" I asked after swallowing yet another mouthful of the ridiculously large ham, green onion, tomato, and cheese omelet before me.

"Later this evening. Esme's telegram said that Carlisle's prepared everything in way of documents for you, and we'll transport you while you're changing. Carlisle's brought morphine too, in hopes that you'll be spared the pain."

"Ah…" I answered lightly. I thought desperately for a distraction. Edward's lips were tightened in dissatisfaction, as they always were when we discussed the necessities of my renovation. "This is delicious, by the way. I never did ask, but when did you learn to cook like this?"

"Watching you and Mother, mostly… I got to practice a bit before I left Carlisle. I sometimes helped prepare lunch and supper for the chapel in Arlington.

"Ah… how very Christianly of you, darling," I laughed softly. It really was typical of my husband.

"I thought perhaps if I could not save my soul, I might help those who could."

"What are you saying, Edward?" I nearly growled with a narrowed glare. I could hear self-deprecation lacing the bitter words.

"This existence is soulless, Bella. We're shells. Nothing more… I will be the most selfish, damned being on earth the day I allow your soul to be taken as well," Edward said so softly that I strained to hear him from across the small, elegantly appointed wrought-iron table. I inhaled deeply, attempting to keep my temper at bay as I carefully laid my knife and fork aside and patted my lips with my napkin. As soon as my hands left the table my fingernails dug into my palms. I had to address my plate in order to keep from shouting.

"Edward, I'm going to say this just once. I never – and I mean _never_ – want to hear you say _anything_ of that nature ever again," I ground out with careful enunciation. My hands trembled as I looked up at Edward's startled face. "I survived for ten years without you, thinking you were _dead_ or had _abandoned_ me. I raised _our_ boy, _on my own_. I had to convince _our son_ that he had a father he could be proud of! And now you sit before me trying to convince me that you're what? Damned? How could you love me if you lacked a soul? How could you still be _my _Edward, my husband, if you…" I could say no more. Waves of anger, pure and unadulterated, washed over me so strongly that I could not speak. It settled hot and heavy in the pit of my stomach and in the back of my mind, I recognized that there was little sense in the intensity of my reaction.

I knew very well Edward's tendency to take up the mantle of blame, shoulder the world's fault, and belittle himself into nonexistence if allowed. I had dealt with it before – whenever he lost a case, the first time a debt collector showed up on our door. After one of the few arguments we had shared. The logical side of my mind knew all of this very well, while the rest of me was battling the sickening sensations tearing at my heart. Finally I could stand it no longer. The sudden clenching of my stomach sent me wheeling toward the bathroom with a hand held over my mouth.

My knees hit the tiled floor of the bathroom just as I felt the world spin around me, and the nausea built and overcame me. The sound of my retching and the smell started a new wave of illness. A cool touch at my throat, pulling my hair back, alerted me to Edward's presence. He ignored my feeble waves to leave me alone and the embarrassment of him seeing me so indisposed added new tears to my confusion. The flux of emotions left me floundering when I finally stopped emptying my stomach of its contents. Edward pulled the flush chain while I stood shakily to rinse my mouth.

It was in silence that my lover carefully lifted me and carried me to a sitting room, pressing his cool fingers to my forehead. Though I was far from feeling anything but confusion at this point, the tears kept coming. Worry, and the sense that I _should_ know the vital bit of information to make it all come together in a sensible explanation, ruled my jumbled thoughts. Several moments of Edward whispering sweet nonsense into my hair while rocking me finally soothed the tears (though I logically could not find a reason for them) and calmed the tremors.

"Are you alright, love?" he finally queried against the too-warm flesh of my throat.

"I think so."

"Do you think you're coming down with something? We have been spending too much time outdoors in the evening and it's getting cooler. It's already October seventeenth. I should have found you a better coat! I'm sorry, Bella…"

And Edward continued the apologies and self-belittling examination of absolutely everything we had done since arriving in La Crosse. But my mind had frozen on the date. It was October seventeenth. Over a month since we had come, since we had begun… I gasped, my eyes widening, my lips mouthing numbers as I held up fingers. I counted once, twice, three times. Somewhere inside my head I registered the tense silence emanating from my husband. Nearly six days since it _should_ have showed up. I turned to my love with wide eyes, my lips parted while I prepared to explain the news that had me nearing happy tears.

"Edward! Bella darling? Are you in?"

The bell tones ringing through the floor were unmistakable, though I had only heard them briefly before. Esme and Carlisle were home.

"Edward?" Carlisle's voice sounded more restrained. Perhaps his super sense of scent had registered what Esme's excitement had dulled. Again I felt embarrassed for my moment of illness.

"Carlisle! In here. Bella's ill!"

"No, Edward, I'm-"

"Bella's ill? Oh no…" Esme fussed, pushing open the door with Carlisle at her heels. The golden-haired doctor frowned slightly upon entering before staring at me in open surprise and understanding. _Ah. _Doctor Carlisle would know immediately what ailed me. Hadn't Edward mentioned Carlisle's sense of smell as an asset in his practice? 'He can even distinguish between adult, child, man, woman, ill, pregnant, and sterile just with his heightened sense of smell combined with his experience,' Edward had told me. But the expression the doctor now wore was frightening. The pain in his eyes coupled with the hard set of his lips tore at my heart.

"Edward, she's not ill," said Carlisle in a pinched, grave voice that matched his face. I wanted to hide from his penetrating gaze.

"What do you mean, she's not ill? You can smell the bile! She was retching not five minutes ago! The poor girl's caught something while on one of our excursions! I, in my stupidity-"

"Hush, Edward. What do you mean, dear? I can smell it as well… The poor darling isn't used to the mountain weather yet. We should have been more thoughtful when we left. Perhaps we should have offered something located in warmer climes. Or-"

"I am perfectly alright!" I finally managed, becoming quickly flustered with the worried energy and Carlisle's frightening expression. It was high time to put an end to it. I put a finger to Edward's lips as he began to protest.

"Edward, I think I'm… We… There's no other logical explanation than… Edward I think I'm with child," I whispered the last word almost reverently. How glorious! I could not doubt my conclusion. Carlisle's words (though I refused to recognize their frightening accompaniment) confirmed my suspicion. If a body could transform from one species of being to another in merely three days, then it would be logical to assume any life born of my lover's frozen state would grow at a similar rate. I nearly laughed at the beauty of it, but Edward had not moved. He stared into space for a moment more before his stilled features dissolved into the same agony that Carlisle expressed in his eyes and the set of his mouth.

Again, I chose to ignore the disturbing reaction, instead focusing on Esme's lovely smile. She understood. She had lost as I had. She could share in my joy.

"Oh, darling!" she cried before embracing me. The hope in her eyes made my heart soar with delight. "Is it possible?" she asked her husband while holding my right hand gently. My left was cradling my previously flat abdomen. Since when had there been a curve? I suppose I had noticed the gentle swell in passing and assumed it to be a result of my extraordinary appetite.

Before I could answer Esme, I felt a nudge against my palm.

"Oh!"

Another little nudge. Edward was at my side in an instant, cradling my face.

"What happened? Did it hurt you? What's wrong?" Edward demanded.

"Hurt?" I said with a frown. His tone confused me. Why was he sound so _angry?_ I would have thought Edward would be overjoyed with such news. I chose to smile at Esme instead and press her palm against my abdomen. My little nudger kicked again and Esme's lovely face lit up.

"Shh… It's alright little one," Esme whispered adoringly to the bump. I smiled, feeling ecstatic that I had another woman to experience this with. Edward and Carlisle's reactions still frightened me, but Esme's obvious pleasure gave me hope. I looked up into my husband's face and frowned at his shared glance with Carlisle.

"Bella," Carlisle began heavily, "I think we should talk."

Esme stiffened and shot her husband a wary glance before taking me by the hand and leading me to one of the many parlors in the gargantuan manor. Edward sat on my other side and Carlisle stood, facing us with a grave expression on his godly features. Worry twisted in my gut and my little nudger pushed against my navel once more.

"Bella, I'm sorry, but we need to take care of it as soon as possible."

"What do you mean _take care of it_, Carlisle?" Esme said dangerously, her eyes gleaming amber slits as she regarded her husband. Carlisle twisted his wedding band about his ring finger as he expelled a sigh.

"There isn't any option, Esme," Carlisle said harshly, and I shrank against Edward at this first example of aggression from the man. Edward rubbed my arm soothingly, but when I looked in his face I saw the same dark determination as I saw on Carlisle's.

"Edward?" I questioned shakily, my eyes wide. No. _No_. They wanted to destroy my happy little baby? My perfect baby – my little girl or boy with my Edward's bronze locks? I squeezed Edward's hand, willing him to answer.

He would not look at me.

"I'm sorry, Bella," he said with such coldness that I shook his arm off of my shoulders. He allowed me to pull away and I glared at both he and Carlisle in horror. Esme reached for me but I jerkedaway.

"You want me to allow you to murder my baby?" I whispered, fighting back tears as my fists shook in anger. I would not let them. They could not.

"You don't understand, Bella," Edward supplicated, his eyes flat, staring at a spot above my head. "It's just like me, as I am now. It will _kill_ you, Bella."

"No, Edward, _you_ will kill me!" I gasped, wrapping my arms around myself as my little nudger twisted inside me, disturbed by my racing heart and lungs.

"Bella, calm down, please," Edward begged me, his eyes finally warming and looking into mine. Pain lurked beneath the surface there, and I knew I would soon give him cause for more. I did not allow myself to linger on that – I had to save my nudger.

"Edward, if you take our child from me, I'll die. I can't… I can't lose another. I cannot…" I whimpered, dissolving into tears. I hated myself for hurting him with the admission, but the alternative would have induced far more than self-loathing.

Edward's jaw clenched and his eyes widened as agony swept across his face. He hung his head in defeat and looked to Carlisle almost pleadingly.

"I won't without your consent, Edward," said Carlisle with sympathy.

"I still do not understand," sighed Esme from her place on the sofa. She held her arms out for me again and I readily sank into them, glad for a mother's embrace. "How could you even consider that?" Esme almost scolded, glaring between her husband and surrogate son.

"Because, Esme, it's unprecedented and dangerous. Surely you realize that the time frame between our departure and now is such that it should not even show, yet… At such a growth rate, the child will outgrow Bella before she's even able to birth it," Carlisle explained. "And considering you can both feel it moving at – I am guessing – an equivalent of three months, the issue of the child's strength at full term is…"

"Bella, it's a monster," Edward said harshly. I immediately folded my hands over my abdomen, sending my husband the coldest look I could manage.

"If it is a question of my safety, plenty of mothers die giving birth _normally_. As for being able to carry _our baby_ to term, Edward," I added stubbornly, allowing my own pain to show at his coldness, "We already planned on my… renovations. If it comes to that, you can change me immediately."

"It's not a bad plan," Carlisle finally admitted, his brow furrowed. "The only problem I can foresee is dietary and the availability of a midwife. I've never personally treated a pregnant woman."

"Then perhaps you should spend the next few weeks reading and studying with one as much as you can," said Esme dismissively. I was a little happy that she seemed furious on my behalf for suggesting such an atrocity.

"Are you mad, Carlisle? It won't matter! The thing will kill her before we can even get to that point!" Edward shouted. My little one nudged my palm and I rubbed little circles over my stomach to sooth it. I hoped for a girl. What would I call her? Renee, in honor of my mother? Kate? I had considered the name "Katherine" for my darling maid… But Esme had so suddenly become my advocate. If it was a boy, what then? Charles, for my father? I would not name my baby Edward. My EJ had passed and I was determined not to make this child a replacement, but a healing balm to my husband's and my pain. Perhaps Anthony…

"What do you suggest I do, Edward? Hold her down and abort it and estrange myself from my wife, son and daughter? Have some sense! We don't have to go into this blindly. Bella and you are unique but there could be others… The legend of the Incubus has grounded origins somewhere in history… All our legends do."

I could not help but laugh at the terminology. My Edward? An Incubus? Three pairs of honey eyes stared at me as if I _had_ suddenly gone mad. The revelations caused me to chuckle for a moment more before regaining my control.

"You all are being ridiculous. Surely this is simple… If I'm not ready to deliver, Carlisle can perform a cesarean. As far as my dietary needs… It's half of both Edward and I, is it not? And if vampire is so removed from human being as far as bodily functions go, we can assume that the baby's needs will be met by a mix of human and vampire diet," I reasoned. It made perfect sense. The midwife, nurse, and doctor during Eddie's delivery had all said this or that "is good for the _baby_." And I had eaten a fair share of things I disliked during my pregnancy for the baby's sake. Disgusting things. Like Brussels sprouts.

"I agree with Bella. We can handle this. Carlisle, you are an excellent surgeon and doctor. Edward is well-read in the theory… Surely together you can manage."

"I don't like it," Edward said darkly, glaring at my abdomen. It really was strange how often the sensation of déjà vu crept up on me lately. It was as if our marriage had never seen its interval of ten years. All this time and Edward still managed to be stubborn and annoying to the extent of causing an argument.

"Edward, I am having this child and you cannot do anything about it. Now are you going to support your wife of over a decade or aren't you?" I demanded as I rubbed soothing circles over my stomach. Edward's lips twitched at my outburst and I fought my own urge to smile. He _would_ be happy. He had to be. But it seemed the silence stretched uncomfortably as he searched my determined face.

"Of course I support you, Bella," he finally sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. He always had to comb it before going in public. I loved it like it was, though. I held my arms out for him, and Edward was there in an instant, his head resting on my lap, his arms around my waist, his head nestled against my stomach. I held him while Esme quietly rose and led Carlisle from the room. I smiled at her appreciatively before she shut the door.

"I'm terrified, Bella," Edward whispered so softly I had to strain to hear.

"I know, Edward."

"I can't lose you."

"You won't. I promise. Soon, you'll see. We'll be the proud parents of a little boy or girl again, and it'll be just like a dream. You can teach our child sports, music… I'll teach them how to draw… We'll go on picnics with Esme and Carlisle. They'll be the most spoiled child alive and have the most loving and safe family in history."

"You're ridiculous, Bella."

"If you mean I'm right, then sure. You have to admit, if it's a girl we're going to encounter problems when it comes to dating."

"The fetus isn't even born yet and you're talking to me about _dating_," Edward grumbled. "And if anyone ever tried anything with a daughter of _mine_, I'd destroy him utterly," he added on after a moment of silence.

And the admittance that my little nudger was now accepted as _ours_, and that he would defend it so vehemently, finally made me break into happy tears and laughter. It was as if I had landed firmly in a dream. The joy, the smile he now wore in response to my laughter, the happiness felt – I absolutely refused to wake up. I had found my personal fairytale, and I would never, ever let go.

. . . . . . . .

A/N: Thank you everyone who read and reviewed and waited patiently. Yaaay!

Now, to address some questions I am sure exist:

Q: Why does Bella have dietary plan in place already?

A: She's had a baby before and by the First World War nutritional knowledge had been firmly established. By the mid-twenties, we had refrigerators (ice boxes), processed foods, canned foods, nutritionists, and knowledge of vitamins. In BD, Bella had 0 access to her own mother as far as babies went and Esme had carried and lost her baby without the assistance of a true doctor, so she would not have known as much. Men, traditionally, did not deliver babies until the late 50's. Midwives did. Unless a cesarean was determined as necessary, they just didn't. So that's my reasoning there.

Q: Edward is happy about the baby?

A: He hasn't had 90 years to angst over being a monster. He is also mourning his lost son. With the joy of having Bella again, I don't think he'd be able to resist being happy about something she loved for long. Especially since a new baby would allow him to fulfill his desire to be a real daddy.

Another note, this is maybe the third or second to last chapter. I am in the slow process of rereading and editing, but, if anyone with knack for grammar and writing could assist, I find myself in need of a Beta. I plan to continue writing fiction for my and others' enjoyment. Let me know through your signed review. So until my next update-

Love,

-Forensica X


	19. For the Sake of the World

A/N: Since I've been MIA for so long, I thought I would go ahead and post this as soon as I could. Please review. Happy reading!

Disclaimer: I never have and never will own anything mentioned in SM's Twilight. I am but a poor student. She is a God. Enjoy.

. . . . . . . . .

Chapter Nineteen: For the Sake of the World

. . . . . . . . .

During the third week, my stomach became a mosaic of purple and black. At first, I tried to hide the bruises from Edward, but of course, when you share a bed with someone, eventually they see. But before that, all of us were so impossibly happy that I could scarcely breathe for smiling.

I had been correct in my assumption of what I needed in my diet. As I absolutely refused to drink precious blood used for transfusions, Esme and Carlisle took turns bringing back extra elk, bear, deer, and lion for me. The first time Edward offered me the metal hipflask I had become accustomed to draining every hour or so, I had thought he had finally succumb to the nervous madness he had experienced during my first pregnancy.

"Just drink it, Bella," he had said, laughing.

"Edward, you know perfectly well that I can't! I'm pregnant for God's sake! What do you-"

And then he had thrust the open flask under my nose and I had nearly melted in delight at the scent. I felt guilty, at first, but as I had been finding it increasingly difficult to eat anything other than eggs, I complained little. The rest of the animals, if of the hoofed variety, usually found its way into soup or stew or sausages so I stopped feeling guilty after a while as well. The pelts found their way to town for hunting and taxidermy enthusiasts.

Before I was so hugely swollen that I could not do more than waddle, Esme and I spent the rest of our time decorating the baby's nursery. Edward and I had moved into a larger bedroom to accommodate for an extra wardrobe and bassinet. Esme and I designated the parlor beside it as the future nursery. The day after our family dispute over my pregnancy, Esme had ordered a beautiful round, white, wrought iron crib. The whimsical bed included filigreed framing for a canopy, which was delivered only two days following the delivery of the cradle itself. This, Esme installed in the center of the nursery during my fourth week while I watched from a rocker.

The rest of the room, I was proud to say, I had as much influence in as she. Though I was sure that Esme could probably finish painting, remodeling, and arranging the room much faster on her own or with Edward's help, she happily worked with me to produce the fantastic wonderland my baby would soon enjoy.

During a trip to town, I had found myself engrossed by travel posters pinned up in the bakery. It had taken a lot of pleading and Edward's contribution of several dollars, but the store manager finally parted with a beautiful scenic portrayal of a mountainous portion of France. The poster was done in gorgeous pastel greens, blues, and soft sunny yellows. A lovely railroad raised on an arched support system wound through the landscape. Esme and I took the poster and modeled the walls of the nursery around it. We added in a castle for whimsical value and determined that whether he or she be either boy or girl, The baby would fit spectacularly among the soft rolling hills and gentle slopes.

As soon as the paint dried, somewhere during the end of my second week (which Carlisle calculated as being the equivalent of about five months), Esme took all of twenty minutes to hang beautiful lace curtains and pale blue and ivory drapes over the French windows and balcony doors. The day after, Edward helped her maneuver the furniture inside. Along with the crib came an oak rocking chair and several low white shelves. The shelves were open in the back to allow one to see the scenery behind them. With them came a long white toy chest, a little oak rocking horse, and several large plush throw cushions. I sat in the rocking chair and helped decide where to put things, since, at this point, I found that if I moved more than a little Edward succumbed to the same type of mania he had experienced during my first pregnancy. Staying still allowed for fewer quarrels about what I was capable.

Even Carlisle could not escape the nesting madness. When he and Edward weren't bent over either medical books or legends, Carlisle took to following the local midwife and visiting expecting mothers. It was during one of these visits that he was inspired to return home with a bag full of children's books, after which Esme decide her husband deserved such rewards that we saw little of either of them for several hours. Edward had been somewhat embarrassed by their behavior while I had giggled and teased him about his great sense of modesty. Which in turn led to our own self-imposed seclusion for the remainder of the evening.

Even with all our merriment, serious discussion often drew us together as much as joy. As I continued to grow, Edward and Carlisle took to examining diagrams of the circulatory system and skeleton. It wasn't until Carlisle returned home one evening with a syringe of gargantuan proportions that I began to worry and asked the subsequent question.

"What is that for?"

"Edward thought that if we get more venom into you, you will change faster thus avoid feeling pain for longer than necessary should the worst come to pass," Carlisle answered worriedly as he turned to the diagram. The current argument seemed to be whether to have several syringes for all pulse points or one for the heart and simply bite the other areas.

"I hope you know, Edward, that I want to be changed as soon as the baby's born. There's no point in waiting and I would rather like to look somewhat young for the rest of eternity," I had said lightly. It was days after the resulting argument that the bruising began to show.

Concerned for the baby's and my comfort, I was ordered to bed. Edward and Esme took to sitting with me, listening to radio shows and reading with me during these times. Esme knitted and Edward moved his piano into the vast room to play for all of us.

The first day of the fourth week, I woke with a scream, my eyes flying open. In moments Esme was at my side and Carlisle and Edward were running through the door too quickly for me to see.

"The baby-" I groaned, disoriented by lingering sleep and sharp pain in my torso. Edward looked at me with an expression of desperation and agony as he lifted up my nightgown for Carlisle, whose fingers flit over my torso carefully.

"The baby's fine! One of your ribs may be broken," said Edward shakily as Carlisle examined me.

"It appears to be just a fracture. Let's get you wrapped up, Bella," he said while throwing a worried glance at Edward.

An hour later and I found myself nestled in Edward's arms while Carlisle and Esme carefully worked a tape measure around my belly. He nodded as if in satisfaction and Esme patted my hand.

"What?" Edward said almost bitingly. I looked up at him reprovingly before taking another sip from my flask.

"I think we should go ahead and deliver the baby tomorrow, Bella," Carlisle said slowly. "The baby's nearly fully grown and we don't want to risk any more ribs since he or she seems to be out of room," he continued.

"Is that safe?" I wondered allowed, looking up at Edward worriedly. I knew nothing about early babies except that they were usually sickly. But considering my baby was half fairytale creature, perhaps that did not apply.

"From what we've read, yes, Bella. This isn't safe for either of you to wait any longer," Edward murmured soothingly while brushing my hair back. I nodded then and allowed sleep to overcome me once more.

I did not wake until the following afternoon. It was amazing how soundly I slept! Usually, little The baby woke me at least twice between bedtime and morning. I sighed in happiness, luxuriating in the comfort of Edward's chest and the mountains of pillows around us. I stroked my belly slowly with a lazy smile on my face.

"What are you smiling at, love?" Edward whispered into my hair, his hand joining mine.

"The baby slept well after the nightmare."

"I did notice you were somewhat unresponsive for the last fifteen hours," Edward chuckled while placing a little kiss on the shell of my ear. I giggled and smiled as I felt our baby shift inside me. For the first time in a long while, the movement wasn't accompanied by kicking.

"It's a little unusual though… The baby seems a lot more placid to mommy this morning," I whispered. Edward laughed and we sat in silence for a few moments.

"Did you say something?" Edward asked suddenly, confused. That was odd. His hearing was better than anyone's.

"No?" I answered, as two more 'no's came from downstairs. There was quiet again for a moment, before Edward gasped and moved so quickly that I didn't register pillows against my back until I felt Edward's head pressed against my abdomen.

"I can _hear_ the baby!" he gasped in wonderment as he stared up at me. A radiant smile burst over his features and I nearly cried at its beauty. He kissed my stomach and rubbed a gentle pattern on either side of the swell as he smiled at me.

"It's… _happy_," he said so tenderly that I did start crying. "The baby didn't move so much because _she_, I _think_, didn't want to hurt you."

"Well of course she's happy," I laughed through the joyous tears, my hands joining Edward. I noticed Esme and Carlisle in the doorway. "She has a wonderful family to love her to death!"

"Happy baby," Edward crooned against my stomach. "She's so intelligent. She's been trying to stay still since she woke up. Carlisle's right. We should deliver today," Edward said finally, looking up at me with such a relaxed expression that I was in full agreement.

"Then you'll be out of there soon, little one," I whispered to her.

"What are we going to name her?" Edward asked with a frown as he slipped from the bed and began helping Carlisle arrange surgical materials on the bedside counter. I tried not to look at the sharp instruments. I looked away as Carlisle injected me with morphine.

"We're doing this _now?_" I whimpered, somewhat frightened.

"It's the best option, Bella, if you're ready."

"I am," I said resolutely. "Remember what I said, though," I grumbled.

"Of course, Bella," Edward sighed. "So? What are we going to name her?"

"I was thinking… Renesmee. Like Reneé and Esme together. Renesmee Elizabeth Carlie Masen," I said slowly, testing the name. Edward's answering smile answered my question of his approval.

"All right, Bella," Carlisle said after our moment of shared bliss. I'm going to have you lie back and we'll get started. Esme's gone hunting for when the baby's here. I don't think Renesmee's dietary needs are going to change once she's born."

I felt the morphine hit my bloodstream and sunk more soundly into the pillows. Edward started tossing the superfluous ones into a corner while I slowly rubbed my stomach. I murmured soft things as Edward smoothed my hair back. I looked up at him placidly only to whimper as something pinched my belly. I looked down to see fountains of blood flowing from my cut open abdomen. Carlisle's face disappeared among the scarlet and a horrible screeching filled my ears. I clamped my eyes shut as Edward stroked my face. I tried desperately to not pay attention to the feeling of the hot wetness in my midsection. I focused instead on the movement I felt, and listened for my baby's first cry.

A moment later and a muffled gasp forced me to look away from my Husband's face to Carlisle. He smiled brilliantly, cradling a bloodied bundle to his chest.

"It's a girl," he said softly, not looking away from her. I smiled, trembling a little from blood loss, muted pain making me feel strange all over.

"No, Renesmee that's not your daddy," Edward said in amusement as his reverent gaze beheld our little girl. Carlisle passed her to Edward, who passed her into my arms. I held her against my breast, smiling happily down at her. And, deliberately, she looked up at me with sparkling brown eyes and smiled radiantly, with a perfect set of tiny, pearly white teeth. Before I could register the sting in my chest, Edward had taken her away and murmured in admonishment to Renesmee. I frowned, becoming quickly aware that my eyesight had begun to blur.

"Edward?" I slurred.

"Edward, we need to get moving. She's loosing too much blood."

"We'll be with you soon, Renesmee," Edward promised our little girl before setting her in the bassinet. My head spun uncomfortably as Edward and Carlisle began rushing around me. Then, abruptly, the dullness melted away and I felt _everything_. It had begun to burn ferociously from somewhere in my middle. The syringe, which had looked so frightening before, burned me more than I could have imagined as Edward pushed it into my chest. As the flames began to engulf me, I could not help but scream.

"Carlisle, morphine!" Edward snapped, pain flashing in his eyes as I screamed again.

But the second needle went in and did nothing. The fire burned hotter, faster, and I was in so much _pain_. I watched in horror as my body went still, my eyes were open, and very aware that I was not actually on fire, but it _hurt_.

At some point, I became aware that I could no longer see for the amount of pain I felt. I could no longer think past acknowledging the experience and wishing an end. I could remember nothing of _why_ I had chosen to put myself through the inferno! And all the while, my heart beat deafeningly faster and infinitely hotter. I thought that I would lose my mind to madness, that I would die a million deaths by flame, but no relief would come to me. Just as I wished for the hundredth time for death, I was engulfed with a new sensation.

I could think _beyond_ the pain. I was _impatient_. But why? What had I to wait for through the impossible inferno? I recalled a face, beautiful, but blurry in detail. I could hear soft breathing and beautiful humming and knew that the owner of the honeyed voice would feel pain if I recognized it myself. Nearly as soon as I came to this conclusion, the last of my bondage – the morphine, I belatedly realized – dissipated, and my body arched as the waves of pain grew higher and stronger and hotter as they raced inwards.

"Carlisle," Edward called excitedly from beyond my blind solitude. He stroked my hand and pressed something incredibly hot against my chest. My eyes flew open and I restrained my mouth as a scream threatened to break through. The lovely little girl on my chest stopped me, kept me still. She looked up at me with beautiful dark eyes – so vivid! Eyes just like my own had been. As I thought around the pain and searched for memories – I quickly went through them as if sifting through mud, preserving each relic in my now infallible mind – I tried to recall when that exact multishade of brown had been so beautiful? It was so impossibly deep! My Renesmee smiled at me with her brilliant pearly teeth. She could push herself up onto her hands to see me better, but it did not seem that she could sit up on her own quite yet. She let herself fall with a soft _flop_ onto my chest and nuzzled my breast. Her little eyes closed contentedly and I watched in fascination as her rosy lips trembled slightly with each tiny breath.

Suddenly, the pain burned hotter and I jerked uncontrollably. Edward attempted to lift Renesmee away from me but she held tight, letting loose a wail so heartbreaking that both Carlisle and Esme rushed forward from the fringes to my bedside. Renesmee clung tighter – without much assistance – to my chest and out of worry for her, I finally forced myself to cling to the mattress as the flames burned hotter, faster, more furiously than ever in my stuttering heart. I ground my teeth together, desperately trying to keep from screaming or moving – then, without warning, the desperate muscle pumped once, twice, and fell silent. I opened my eyes again in wonderment as my little Renesmee smiled at me radiantly. Before I could register the possibility of holding her in my own arms, I found them around her. She smiled in content as I cradled her to my chest. Hesitantly, I took a breath.

She smelled so _delightful!_ Like some sort of perfume and the most delicious dessert! I kissed her downy ringlets – when did they grow so long? – and held her just a tiny bit tighter. She smiled and began tugging harmlessly on one of my locks. Belatedly, I noticed that someone had dressed me during my time burning.

"Bella?" Edward asked from my side, holding out his arms for Renesmee. I smiled at him, too happy to give any thought to his cautious tone. My doublescan of the room had already revealed no danger.

"She's so beautiful," I said with a smile, kissing her little face again. She smiled back at me, and Edward joined us. Carlisle put an affectionate hand on her little head and Renesmee responded by pulling his fingers. Esme smiled.

"Bella?" Edward asked again, softer this time, contented. I stared at the glory of his face with new appreciation. Basking in his glow and that of my daughter's I could feel nothing more than glee. "Thank you."

"Whatever for, Edward?" I laughed, marveling at the new sound of my voice. So high and clear and pretty. Renesmee seemed to agree. She clapped her little dimpled hands in delight.

"For the world, Bella. For my entire world," Edward whispered as he encompassed both Renesmee and me in his arms.

But Edward had it wrong.

"Our world, Edward. And it wouldn't be complete without you."

. . . . . . . .

A/N: This is the final true chapter – all that remains is an epilogue. I hope this satisfies. Love,

-Forensica X


	20. Epilogue

Disclaimer: I never have and never will own anything mentioned in SM's Twilight. I am but a poor student. She is a God. Enjoy.

. . . . . . . . .

Epilogue

. . . . . . . . .

Our lives find strange paths to follow. As soon as I had my first hunt, Edward answered my questions concerning my change and Renesmee's first days. I had spent just under forty-eight hours "unconscious" (at that point I had yet to say anything about the effects of morphine) and Renesmee had already progressed to pushing herself up on her own, sitting, and holding her bottle. She could understand what her father said, and obeyed. Stranger yet, she was gifted beyond our wildest dreams. All of us held conversations with her through her strange power of "showing" things.

Her first steps, words, and sentence came in quick succession. Soon enough, my little girl joined us in hunting.

Finally, overcome with fear and doubt, we left the house in La Crosse and went south by train. Carlisle rented a sleeper car for us and we arrived in Mexico in just under a week. From there, we ran through the jungles until we came to Chile. We hired a human guide to communicate with the locals on our behalf. The somewhat besotted man readily went from village to village inquiring about the "libishomen," as we came to know the Chilean vampire legend.

After nearly a month of searching, we came across a scent like Renesmee's: a strange mix of human blood and sweet perfume of our own species. We followed and soon encountered the miracle that made us breath a sigh of relief.

Nahuel and Huilen were as astounded as we were when we explained the fear we had been living with and how we came to find them. They readily answered our questions and Renesmee bounced with joy at my admission that we would never, ever part. She spent the remainder of the day wrapped in my arms, happily singing the word "forever" over and over again.

Edward smiled more beautifully than I had seen since my vampire birth, and I rejoiced in the alleviation of our fears. After extending an open invitation for the two to visit us in the future, we turned back toward Mexico and swiftly made our way north.

We finally settled in Rochester New York, where Carlisle took up a position as a doctor and Edward began attending Rochester University and I went with him.

To my greatest relief, I found that my change had elevated my physical beauty beyond my wildest imaginations, and that Edward's previous estimate of my age was correct: I really did _not_ appear a day over twenty. Happily, I wore my wedding ring to my first day of classes with Edward.

With Renesmee nearly fully grown after five years of life, we were happy to enroll her in private tutelage with girls of her apparent age. She resembled a fifteen-year-old, and her growth had slowed enough that the minor changes in her figure could be explained by an age-appropriate growth spurt. She enjoyed the experience immensely, though Edward's temper soured once the occasional dandy began walking her home. Esme, for her part, often welcomed Renesmee's suitors into the house for tea and cake or whatever snack she kept on hand. Unfortunately, Renesmee's tastes tended to lean toward sweet things while she sated her nutritional needs during our hunts. During the day, Esme otherwise occupied herself with volunteering in soup kitchens as the Great Depression worsened.

During the winter of 1933, Carlisle burst through the door and the scent of blood overwhelmed us. I immediately held my breath and held Renesmee's to me. Esme covered her mouth and nose with her hand while Edward glared at his father angrily.

"You've bitten _her?"_ he demanded, his beautiful voice lowered into a dangerous growl.

"Not now, Edward, get some towels, please! I need your help," Carlisle begged. Edward did not move as I looked between he and his father. I gently patted Renesmee's hand in a silent reminder to control her thirst. She looked to Esme and the both of them ran from the back door. I took one more look at my furious husband before rushing to Carlisle's side. I pushed the burn in my throat to the back of my mind as I helped Carlisle cleanse the prone form of Rosalie Hale of her blood. I allowed myself to inhale slightly.

"She's been raped," I gasped in horror, cradling her lovely blonde head in my lap as Carlisle bit her inner elbows and wrists.

"The King boy," he said in disgust as he tore the remainder of her ruined clothes from her poor, bruised body.

"Royce King? Her fiancée?" I hissed as the girl began to convulse in pain. I knew what she was now experiencing.

"And a few drunken friends, I'm assuming. I crossed their path earlier…"

"I'll find some clothes for Miss Hale," I murmured as the girl's eyes flew open and she began screaming. Carlisle attempted to calm the girl as he cleaned her up. I returned within a few moments with one of my dresses. Carlisle helped me dress her and I took over comforting her as Carlisle took Edward to the adjoining room. I stroked her heated, purple cheek as I held her still.

"Rosalie, Carlisle's trying to help you… He's a good man. He didn't want to see such a wonderful young woman die… Please forgive us, Rosalie," I whispered such sentiments repeatedly and soon enough she stopped screaming. Silent tears streamed over her face as her skin healed. She continued to tremble and jerk through the day. As the third day turned into night, she finally stilled and opened her flaming red eyes.

After a month, after Royce King was discovered mangled beyond recognition in the newspapers, we left for a cabin in Tennessee where we hunted often and enjoyed a life of solitude as Rosalie became accustomed to her new body. She was sad, and bitter, but rejoiced in being an aunt to Renesmee. They played dress-up as Renesmee matured into a beautiful young woman. To everyone's surprise, she experienced menstrual cycles just before she turned seven, and the cycles continued every two months afterward.

She had been mortified and frightened when they first occurred, as none of us had thought to even consider the possibility. Edward walked about with a Cheshire cat grin on his face after we had "the talk" with her – and I assumed that it had everything to do with the continuation of his family and the opportunity to be a granddad someday.

Rosalie felt even happier at this, and took it upon herself to become a bosom friend to my hopelessly teenaged daughter. Through the experience, Rosalie healed. And when she came home in early 1935 with a giant of a man in her arms, Carlisle did not hesitate to change him for her. To everyone's relief and happiness, Emmet gladly accepted his place as part of the family, though he had more difficulty adjusting during the first year.

In 1936, we moved on to Washington, where the fairly new city of Forks was in need of a doctor. Scarcely days after finishing the renovations of our colonial era white house in the woods, we found ourselves in direct contact with creatures I had never heard of before. The appearance of Renesmee in the upstairs window halted the three dark wolves' advance as they registered her heartbeat and scent.

The following conversation established a treaty: the Cullen family would agree never to bite a human being and the Quileute nation would not wage war on them. A boundary line was established, and we lived in peace for several years.

In 1940, Renesmee expressed a desire to go to college so we relocated to Maryland. Esme, Renesmee, Rosalie, and I all enrolled in the College of Notre Dame of Maryland. We studied until the completion of our baccalaureate and then the family moved northward again.

In 1950, Alice found us, and it was as if she had _always_ been there. Edward and I came home from hunting to find our things moved to the garage. Renesmee sat laughing on the porch as her "Auntie Alice" danced about, arranging things upstairs. To our joint bemusement, we found that the little psychic had seen our immediate relocation to somewhere tropical. Edward, seeing it as an opportunity to celebrate nearly a half-century of marriage, took it upon himself to arrange a belated honeymoon for the two of us. Though we missed Renesmee dearly, our time spent at Isle Esme relaxed us both beyond what we thought possible. When we rejoined the family it was to find that an addition had been added to our home for Edward and I.

The years passed, so quickly, it seemed, and became a blur of happiness and laughter. The only sadness we encountered was that of other covens. We met Tanya, Irina, Kate, Carmen, and Eleazar and learned of the loss of their mother. We mourned with them for a while, glad that we had yet to experience any tragedies, and learned of the danger our Renesmee would have once represented. It was during this visit that Eleazar approached Edward about my possible abilities and Kate began training me. After nearly a year of living with the Denali coven – a year of learning to defend myself and my family – the biggest threat we had yet to experience found its way to us.

Fear found us again when the Volturi extended its invitation. Alice, foreseeing no issue with accepting, urged us onto a plane and to the Volterra court. Aro was intrigued by my gifts, enchanted with Alice's and completely astounded by Renesmee. The only true tension we felt during the visit occurred when Felix expressed a desire to court our daughter, to which Edward and I reacted almost violently. My sweet daughter, seeing the danger, politely refused and begged Aro to accept our united refusal to join their ranks.

Grudgingly, Alice later admitted, Aro allowed us to return home.

But the visit raised other issues. Renesmee, since maturing, had not found an interest in any vampire we had come across, or any human she had met. As the century turned, we all began to worry as our darling girl descended into a depression of sorts. Her lips would smile and her eyes would show nothing but longing. I cried tearlessly into Edward's chest many a time for our daughter's loneliness. Her dreams, which I watched so often, began to resemble nightmares. For the first time in years we feared for her.

In 2003, we returned to Forks, Washington. The treaty, as it stood, seemed to no longer be in effect. No scent of wolf passed through the woods, so we assumed that the line had died out. Rosalie, Emmet, Edward, Renesmee, and I enrolled in Forks High School. Emmet and I attended as juniors, Rosalie as a sophomore, and Edward and Alice as freshmen. Edward and I watched worriedly as Renesmee grew in popularity. Her loveliness, her bright personality, and the fact that she was obviously unattached drew the boys to her in droves. Edward often found himself growling at the thoughts of the adolescent males in the vicinity, so I began extending my inner shield out to encompass Edward. During these times, he would give me a relieved smile and mutter something about dismemberment.

In 2006, Renesmee disappeared. It was during class. Edward had texted me that our daughter was leaving campus, running to _find _something. We had worried that perhaps she had found someone too appealing to resist, as Emmet had experienced twice before. Frightened for her safety and that of our family, I called the school to have Edward released from class, but we had already wasted precious time.

Edward and I ran side-by-side, too quickly for the human eye to follow, as soon as we left campus. Our daughter's scent trailed close to the woods and went south, towards Quileute territory. We both gasped as we skidded to a halt just outside of the border, amazed at what our noses told us. The wolves _hadn't_ disappeared. They had _increased_ in number, and our little girl was on _that_ side of the line. Edward held me to his chest, both of us trembling with worry and fear. We took turns trying to call her cell phone in vain. Both of us listened hard for any sign of her voice.

An hour after we arrived, a black Volkswagen came up the road. I sighed in relief at the sight of Renesmee in the passenger side of the car. When the scent of the driver reached us, both Edward and I reacted by pulling back into defensive crouches.

"Renesmee Elizabeth Carlie Cullen get your _butt_ over here RIGHT NOW!" I shouted, my voice ripping through three octaves. The figure beside her cringed and I grinned at his fear.

"Mom, it's fine!" she called back, her smile disarming me. I had forgotten the last time she had smiled like that. To my surprise, the boy driving the car went around to her side and opened the door. They held hands as they walked toward us and I reluctantly slid back into a standing position, though I kept my arms crossed over my chest.

"What do you have to say for yourself, young lady?" I demanded, my voice back to its normal range of volume. "Skipping school? We thought that you had had an _Emmet_ accident," I continued, forgetting myself and pulling her to me. I wrapped my arms around my warm, breathing daughter, free of the scent of fresh blood, and sighed in relief.

"I found him," she chirped happily.

"Who is he?" Edward growled, eyeing the dark-skinned, black-haired boy beside her. He had yet to let go of her hand. "He's a mutt," Edward growled.

"DAD!" Renesmee yelled in protest. Edward winced and I smiled at my spirited girl.

"Hello… Um… I'm Jacob," the boy said, obviously nervous. He was huge in comparison to either Edward or I. He had to be closer to seven feet tall than six. His kind, nearly black eyes shone with concern for the girl whose hand he held. He pulled a little nervously at his shorn hair as I stroked my Renesmee's beautiful locks to reassure myself of her safety.

"Hello, Jacob," I answered in confusion. He definitely was one of the Quileute pack.

"Momma, this is Jacob Black…"

"I love your daughter!" he blurted suddenly, his russet cheeks turning dark red for a moment. I looked in surprise from Jacob's bashful face (it was somewhat disarming on top of his huge, muscular body) to my daughter's radiant smile.

"Well then… I suppose you should come to dinner, Jacob Black," I said with a laugh. Edward expelled a low curse.

"Hey! I heard that, bloodsucker!" Jacob growled, crossing his arms over his huge chest. Renesmee extracted herself from my arms to punch him lightly just above the elbow.

"Be nice! That's my daddy!"

"I don't like him, Renesmee," Edward growled sullenly. I had had enough at this point. Renesmee's smile faltered and her lower lip trembled. I took the warning signs and grabbed Edward hard by the arm and tugged him several yards away. Behind us, Renesmee shifted to Jacob's side and he wrapped his arms automatically around her.

"Edward Anthony Cullen," I growled, jabbing my husband in the chest with my finger as I glared up at him. "Your daughter is obviously happier than she has been in _years _and you want to spoil it? Weren't we just talking about how we want her to find someone?"

"Bella, love, he's a _werewolf!_"

"And, obviously, that would be a problem if _he _seemed to mind that _we_ are vampires, but he doesn't. So suck it up, and tell your daughter that Jacob can come to dinner or _you'll_ regret it," I threatened, narrowing my eyes. Edward seemed as if he was going to argue but wisely decided against it.

That night, we learned about imprinting and Edward's fears, for the most part, were laid to rest. From then on, Jacob Black became a part of our family as much as Alice and Jasper had. Alice bemoaned the fact that Jacob was as much of a blind spot to her as Renesmee, but did not pout for long. Rosalie had the biggest problem accepting Jacob, but soon enough their animosity morphed into some semblance of camaraderie. To my immense surprise, Jacob became my best friend aside from Alice. We talked about almost everything, and Renesmee happily supported our relationship. Edward, even, found himself liking Jacob.

On April 15, 2007, Jacob proposed to Renesmee as she sat in his lap at the Quileute council campfire. With their nuptials in the following year, Edward and I stopped worrying about our daughter's happiness. With the birth of their first child – a little boy with black hair and peachy skin they called Eddie – we found ourselves so drunk with joy that we could ask for no more.

And we didn't, though Edward and I became the happy grandparents of many children, and their children, and theirs. Through it all, we remained amazed at how our love had birthed so much more. We rejoiced every day, and gave thanks every day, for our luck, our fortune, our accidental fairytale.

And it had all begun a century before, on a windy street in Chicago, once upon a time in 1917.

. . . . . . . .

A/N: So, here is the conclusion of our journey. I am so grateful for those of you who have stuck it out until the very end. Thank you for reading, and those of you who have reviewed have warmed my soul between chapters. I hope I can continue to entertain you with my inner musings.

I am downgrading the rating of this story to "Teen" after reading through it again. As to the romance, I'll be relating them in a "diary" separate from this story. Hope you enjoy that as well. It is still a work in progress, as I still don't want it to be utter smut. I'm sure you'll enjoy it either way.

As always, I hope you let me know what you think.

Love,

Forensica X


End file.
